


Prince of The Thousand Scales

by ranguvar82



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is a Sweetheart (Good Omens), Fluff, Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M, Slow Burn, Unrequited, well slow-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:55:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26895574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ranguvar82/pseuds/ranguvar82
Summary: Prince Crowley of Infernia is fleeing a marriage that should never be. His fate now lies in the hands of Prince Aziraphale of Caelum. If only Crowley could tell Aziraphale who he truly was.Prince Aziraphale finds himself fascinated by the newest addition to the palace, a young man disguised as a serpent with a thousand scales. But is there more to this Crowley than meets the eye?An AU of The Princess of the Thousand Furs/The Princess in Disguise
Relationships: Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Aziraphale & Anathema Device, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley & Madame Tracy (Good Omens), Gabriel/Michael (Good Omens)
Comments: 118
Kudos: 142





	1. An Ill Fated Proposal

**Author's Note:**

> For those not familiar with this tale, there is a bit of VERY UNREQUITED incest at the beginning. Just a head's up.

Prince Of The Thousand Scales

Chapter One: An Ill-Fated Proposal

Once upon a time, in a far off kingdom called Infernia, there lived a king, Lucifer, and his wife, Lilith. They had one son, Prince Crowley. Lilith was said to be the most beautiful woman in the world, and Lucifer worshiped the ground that she walked on. She was tall and graceful, with fire red hair that flowed down to her waist, bright blue eyes that reflected the sky on a warm summer day, and a kind, gentle disposition.

Alas, she fell ill one day. King Lucifer called for his finest physicians, but there was nothing they could do. Queen Lilith called her husband to her side. “Lucifer, promise me something. If you ever remarry, promise me it will be only to someone who has hair as red as mine.”

Lucifer kissed her and promised. Queen Lilith sighed, and breathed her last.

Crowley, who was still just a young child, came into the room. “Papa? Where’s Mama?” Lucifer hugged his child close.

“Mama is gone, little one.” Crowley started sobbing and buried his face in his father’s chest.

“Go on upstairs, child. Tracy, take him.” Lucifer spoke to Crowley’s nanny, Madam Tracy. She held out a hand.

“Come child, your father has much to do.” Crowley slipped his small hand in hers and together they went up to his room.

“Why did Mama die, Tracy?” Crowley asked, his eyes filled with tears. Tracy sighed.

“Your Mama was a delicate creature, my darling. She could not handle being as sick as she was. Your father loved her very much, so if he acts differently towards you for a while, do not be angry with him. He still loves you, understand, little snake?” The last words were said with great affection.

When Prince Crowley was born, the court physician had taken one look at his eyes and screamed that he was a devil child. His eyes, rather than being the blue of his mother or the dark brown of his father, were a bright gold, and his pupils were slit like a snake’s. Lilith had snatched her baby and declared that the physician was not to ever touch him again. Lucifer had sent him packing that very afternoon, right before making a decree that insulting the Crown Prince would be punishable by imprisonment.

Crowley went over to his bookshelf, pulling down a large book of fairy tales. “Read to me, please?” He asked, climbing into Tracy’s lap. She smiled and opened the book. “Once upon a time...”

“Tracy?” Crowley asked.

“Yes my dear?”

“I want a prince.”

Tracy ruffled his fiery hair. “Do you? What sort of prince do you want?”

Crowley wrinkled his small forehead. “He has to be kind. That’s the most important thing. He has to love books as much as me. He has to make me smile, and be able to make me laugh when I am sad. He has to be kind to other people, not just people that are like him. He has to be strong, but soft.”

Tracy hugged him close and kissed the top of his head. “I’m sure you’ll find him someday.”

“I hope so too.”

Far across the mountains lay the kingdom of Caelem, ruled over by King Gabriel and his wife, Queen Micheal. They had three children. The oldest, Prince Sandalphon, was a bully whom but his father-a bully himself-nobody liked. The middle, Princess Uriel, was a bit better than her brother. But it was the youngest, Prince Aziraphale, whom the whole castle doted on.

The prince was shy and reclusive, preferring to spend his days in the massive library of the castle rather than running around outside and sporting. He loved learning, and would eagerly devour every book that was given to him. His best and dearest friend, much to his father’s openly expressed horror, was Anathema Device, the young granddaughter of the head cook, Agnes Nutter. The two were inseparable, spending every moment they could spare in each others’ pockets. Anathema had a mischievous streak that balanced well with Aziraphale’s calm demeanor.

One day, when it was raining so hard that it was lashing the windows, Aziraphale and Ana were in one of the unused rooms in the castle. “It’s not raining that hard, you know.” Ana said. Aziraphale snorted.

“It’s bucketing down. And besides, last time I went out in the rain with you Father gave me a lashing.” The prince rubbed his arm. Ana sighed and went over to the window seat, flopping down on it with a dramatic groan.

“I’m so boored!”

Aziraphale came over and sat next to her. “We could go help your granny in the kitchen.”

“Don’t want to do that.”

Aziraphale thought. “We could go switch the heads on the suits of armor again. That was fun.”

Ana flopped dramatically down. “Too much work.” Aziraphale shrugged. Ana stared at the ceiling. “Zira?”

“Yeah?” 

“D’you think you’ll ever get married?”

Aziraphale blinked. “I’m sure I will. Why? Do you want to marry me?” 

Anathema made a face. “Ew. No, you’re my best friend! I don’t want to marry  **you.** .”

Aziraphale shoved her playfully. “Well I don’t want to marry you either. I want to marry a prince!”

“Yeah? What sort of a prince?”

Aziraphale lay back and stared up at the ceiling. “One like in the old tales. Brave, and dashing, and handsome, and kind, and clever.” 

“AZIRAPHALE!” King Gabriel’s voice echoed through the hall. Aziraphale sighed. 

“In here, Father.”

King Gabriel came into the room, glaring daggers at the young princeling. “You are late for fencing lessons. Again. And I have told you about spending your time with the servants. It is not proper. You. Girl. You belong in the kitchens, not up here. I suggest you return to your duties.”

Ana glared at him. “Yes, Majesty.” She said in a cold voice. Gabriel’s face went purple and he strode forward, arm raised to deliver a blow. Aziraphale stepped in front of Ana. 

“Don’t you dare hit her!” He said, his small face red with anger. “She’s my friend!”

Gabriel lowered his arm. “She is a servant, boy. You would do well to learn that. However, this delay is only making you later. Now, Swordmaster Tyler is waiting for you. As for you, kitchen wench, defy me again and you will be cooling your temper in the dungeon. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, Majesty.” Ana said humbly, head bowed and shaking. Aziraphale, who had known her for the entire nine years he’d been alive, knew that the shakes were not from fear, but from rage. 

They departed the room with whispered promises that if the rain stopped, they would meet in one of the gardens. 

The rain did stop, and Aziraphale escaped from his lessons as quickly as he could, ignoring the shouts of Swords Master Tyler. Aziraphale hated him anyway, as he was a lickspittle toady who was forever complaining about something or other. Aziraphale donned his outdoor cloak and found Ana in one of the gardens. They played together until the sun began to go down.

“Do you think I’ll ever find him?” 

“Find who?”

“My prince, Ana.”

“Yeah, I do. And he’ll be even more handsome!”

The years rolled on. Prince Crowley grew, and all that saw him remarked on how much he was coming to resemble his mother. His hair, which he let grow long, cascaded down his back in a red waterfall. He had her high, sharp cheekbones, and her tall, graceful ways. When he reached his twenty first birthday, he was the very image of her. 

Tracy, who had been by his side from infancy, presented him with a necklace with a ruby pendant. “It was your mother’s God rest her. She would want you to have it.” Crowley held it reverently, noticing that Tracy looked ill at ease. 

“What’s wrong, Tracy?”

She shook her head. “Nothing for you to worry about, little snake. The councilors-they’re talking to your father. It’s nothing. I promise.” Her face fell when  Beelzebub , the head of King Lucifer’s councilors, came into the room, looking very grave. “What news?”

Beelzebub sighed. “The council...has not been able to dissuade his Majesty.” They gulped, then addressed Crowley. “Your father...would like to see you.”

Crowley donned the necklace and followed them down the hall to King Lucifer’s chambers. “Prince Crowley, Your Highness.” Beelzebub said, looking very grave. Lucifer nodded, and they departed, leaving the prince and his father alone. 

“How like your mother you look.” Lucifer said, gazing at his son. “I made a promise to her, that if I were to ever marry again, it would only be to someone with hair as red as her own. I have spent many years trying to find that someone, and now I see there is only one.”

Crowley felt like he was going to vomit. “Father, you cannot mean...”

Lucifer smiled. “I realize there will not be any...fruits of our union, but that does not matter. I will love you as I loved her.”

“I am your son! It would mean ruin, devastation for Infernia! There must be a princess or a queen that has hair like mine.”

“There is none.”

Crowley staggered. “Father, please reconsider. This is a sin, the vilest sin of all. I am your blood. No good will come of this.”

Lucifer shook his head. “There is nothing you can say that will dissuade me.”

Crowley straightened to his full height. “If that is the case, then...I will agree to the wedding on  one condition.”

“Name it.”

“I want three suits. One must be as bright as the sun, and decked with every jewel in the kingdom. The other must be as silvery as the moon, and shimmer when I walk. The third must be as dark as the midnight sky. And I want a snakeskin cloak, and every snake in the kingdom must contribute a piece of their scales to it. Bring me those items, and I will go through with this vile wedding.” Crowley turned and left Lucifer’s chambers, shaking in relief. Surely there was no way his father could fill such a request. 

Tracy was waiting for him. She saw the look of pain and disgust and held her arms open, pulling him into a tight hug. “There now, little snake. It will be alright. Tracy’s here, and I’ll never leave you, no matter what happens.”

Two weeks later, Lucifer called Crowley into his chambers and presented his horrified son with the gifts he had requested. “Now there is no obstacle to our union!” The king declared happily. Crowley nodded, his heart sick with terror. He accepted the gifts with a nod. As soon as he was out in the corridor, he ran as fast as his legs would carry him to Tracy’s rooms. She held him as he sobbed. 

“You must leave. That is the only way.” She went over to her bureau drawer and pulled out three golden walnut shells. “The suits you had made. Bring them here, as well as your cloak.” Crowley ran and fetched them. Tracy folded the suits until they were so small they fit in the walnuts, then closed them up tight. She helped Crowley with the cloak, then led him out of the castle by a secret passage. 

“Guard the nuts well, little snake, for what’s in them may change everything for you.”

Crowley held her hands. “But, but you’re coming with me! Aren’t you?”

Tracy shook her head. “I cannot, my dear. If I left with you, the king would follow and force us to return. By staying, I can claim that you left in the dead of night, and I have no knowledge of where you have gone.”

Crowley sobbed. “But..I need you.”

Tracy hugged him tight. “Oh, my little snake. You are braver than you believe. Now. Go!” 

Crowley gave her one final hug before flipping up the hood of his cloak and running off into the night. Tracy watched until he was a small speck. “Fate and Fortune watch over you, little snake.”

Lucifer was enraged when he discovered Crowley’s exodus. Tracy, who maintained her ignorance, was thrown into the dungeon. “You will tell me where he has gone, or spend the rest of your days in here.”

“Wherever he is, he is safe from you. That is all I care for.”

Crowley was exhausted. Two weeks earlier, he had crossed the mountains, and now found himself in a different kingdom. He was starving, having eaten his last meal-an apple stolen from a cart full of them-two days ago. He could hear water, and he staggered toward the sound. 

A stream ran through the forest, and he whooped in joy, running as fast as he could. He fell onto the bank and lapped the water up like a dog, burying his face in it with a cry. 

He lifted his head and shook himself, then cried out again at the blackberry bushes that were growing on either side of the bank. He stripped one bush clean, his fingers and lips turned black, then climbed up a nearby tree, wrapped his cloak around himself, and drifted off to sleep. 

He was woken moments later by the sound of dogs barking. He looked down, gasping in fear. Four large hounds were leaping up for him, snarling and growling. Crowley pressed himself against the trunk. He couldn’t climb any higher, the branches were too thin. 

“Here! Dogs!!” A man came up, a gun in his hand. “What’s got you so excited?” He looked up and spotted Crowley. “Mother of Heaven, a serpent!” He raised his gun. 

“Don’t shoot me!” Crowley cried out, hands over his eyes. The huntsman dropped his gun. 

“What are you doing up there?”

Crowley gulped. “Resting. That’s all. Please don’t shoot me!” 

“Come down.” 

Crowley slid down. The huntsman looked him up and down. “You’re a stranger. Well come along.”

“Wh..were are we going?” Crowley asked, gazing in trepidation at the dogs, who were still growling softly at him. 

“To the castle. King Gabriel may find a serpent who walks on two legs to be an interesting novelty. Come along, Serpent.”

Crowley followed, wondering what fate awaited him. 


	2. An Auspicious Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley is given a place in the castle, makes two new friends, and desperately wants to woo Aziraphale.

Chapter Two: An Auspicious Meeting

Aziraphale was curled up in the corner window of the castle library, a large book open on his lap and a cup of hot cocoa in hand. He sipped at the cocoa and idly turned the pages, completely absorbed in the story in front of him. Behind him, the sun formed his white blond hair into a halo.

Aziraphale had grown from a chubby boy into a soft, plump adult, much to his father’s chagrin, his mother’s annoyance, and his sibling’s disgust. Sandalphon and Uriel took every opportunity they had to bully him and lord over the fact that King Gabriel held them in higher favor than Aziraphale.

Aziraphale knew he was soft, but he didn’t care. He would much rather be soft than whatever his siblings were. He pushed his glasses up his nose, his sky blue eyes bright. He’d have to find a way to keep the dratted things from sliding down.

“Aziraphale?” Anathema’s voice. Even now, years later, she was still his best friend in the kingdom.

“Over here, Ana!” He called, turning another page with a plump, well manicured hand. Anathema followed his voice and sat in the seat next to him. “Cocoa?” He held out the cup, and she took a sip.

“Thanks. Don’t suppose you know what’s going on.” Ana said, looking smug and conspiratorial.

Aziraphale shook his head, causing his glasses to slip down again. Thank goodness he only needed them for reading. With a sigh, he closed the book and folded them away in his waistcoat pocket. “No, what?”

Ana leaned in. “Well, apparently John the huntsman has returned with an oddity. A snake with legs.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “Snakes don’t have legs, Ana.”

“Uh, duh. It’s obviously a guy wearing a snakeskin cloak. Wanna go see what he looks like?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” Aziraphale opened his book again. Anathema huffed loudly, then stared at Aziraphale.

Aziraphale bit his lip. Ana kept staring. “Oh, fine! Let’s go see this snake man! Just..stop staring at me!”

Anathema giggled in triumph. Aziraphale marked his place and followed her out of the library. As they reached the throne room, he could hear his father’s voice.

“Crawley, you said?”

“Crowley.” The second voice sent an unexplained shiver down Aziraphale’s spine. He took a breath and pushed open the doors to the throne room.

His parents were on their thrones. Kneeling in front of them was a figure swathed in a cloak that seemed to be made of a thousand snake scales. The figure was hooded, his head down. King Gabriel looked disdainful while Queen Michael looked as implacable as always. King Gabriel snorted.

“Whatever. Where are you from?”

An audible gulp from the hooded figure. “I...somewhere very far away, Majesty.”

Gabriel scoffed again. “That’s not an answer, Serpent. Are you here to do harm?”

“N..no, Majesty. I just...I need work, and...a place to stay.”

Gabriel gave him a false smile. “Oh, that’s too bad, because I don’t think...”

“I’ll take him!” Aziraphale spoke up from where he had been hiding behind a column. Gabriel blinked as his youngest son came over, wringing his hands. “It’s just, um. Well, I could use a...personal servant, and um, well, he could also help Ana in the kitchen, and...please don’t throw him out into the world, Father. It’s um..almost winter, and... please?”

Gabriel looked from his son to the other man. “Alright. You want him, Aziraphale, he’s all yours.”

Aziraphale gulped and walked over to the cloaked figure. The man looked up at him, and Aziraphale gasped at the burning gold eyes. “Oh!”

“Yeah, I get that reaction. ‘I’ve got, um...coverings for them.”

Aziraphale shook his head. “No! Don’t cover them, please. And um...please, stand up.” The man stood, and Aziraphale gasped again at how tall he was. “May I..see your face?”

Crowley gulped. What if he was recognized? Would Gabriel send word to his father that he was here? “I...would rather not, Prince Aziraphale.” He braced himself for the prince’s anger. Instead, Aziraphale gently patted his arm.

“I will not ask again. Um, come along and I’ll introduce you to Ana. She’s the head cook.” He led Crowley out of the throne room. Anathema was waiting outside, her ears pressed to the door. She straightened up as soon as they walked out, looking innocent. “So how much did you hear?” Aziraphale asked, looking smug.

“Nothing. None of it. A teeny itty bitty bit.” She stuck her hand out. “Anathema Device, head cook.”

Crowley shook it. “I’m...uh, Crowley. Guess I’ll be working for you once in a while.” Ana nodded, then turned to Aziraphale. “Right. Well, I’ve got to go prep for tonight’s dinner. I’m sure Zira will show you a place to sleep.” She left in a swishing of skirts. Crowley turned to him.

“Zira?”

Aziraphale sighed. “She knows I hate that nickname. I swear she does it just to annoy me.”

“Have you...known her long?” Crowley asked, feeling a strange twist in his gut. Aziraphale nodded.

“My whole life. She’s my best friend. Father hates that, but it’s the one act of rebellion I’ve been able to accomplish. What about you?”

“What about me?” Crowley asked as they walked down a corridor.

“Do you have any friends? What are your parents like?”

Crowley gulped. “I...no, not really. As for my parents...my...mother died when I was very young. I barely remember her. My nanny, Tracy, she reared me.”

Aziraphale patted his arm in sympathy. “I’m so sorry. What about your father?”

Crowley froze, shaking. What could he tell this prince? That his father was an incestuous bastard that had proposed a horrible marriage to his own blood because of a promise made decades ago, and that Crowley had been forced to flee the only home he had ever known? “He’s..still alive.” Aziraphale seemed to understand his unwillingness to expand on that sentence.

They stopped in front of a small wooden door. Aziraphale pushed it open, both of them wincing at the squalling hinges. The room behind it was small, with a bed, a bureau with a mirror on it, and nothing else. “This used to belong to one of the servants, a man named Young, but he married and left for greener pastures, as it were. It needs airing out, and the linens need changing, but it’s close to my rooms, and you won’t be disturbed.”

Crowley sank down onto the mattress, coughing a bit at the cloud of dust that came up. “Thank you. Prince Aziraphale, I’m not...really sure how good of a...servant I’ll be.”

“Just Aziraphale, and I only said that so Father wouldn’t throw you out. I’m quite capable of looking after myself. But...if you want a friend, I’d be more than happy for you to fill that position.”

Crowley was confused. “But, you already have a friend. Miss Device.”

Aziraphale blinked, then came over and placed his hand on Crowley’s shoulder. “My dear, friendship is not a finite resource.”

“It’s not?”

“No. If I say we are friends, that is what we are.” Crowley smiled, and Aziraphale smiled back. “Now, I’ll get one of the servants to make this place habitable. In the meantime...would you like me to show you around?” Crowley nodded.

Aziraphale led him around the palace, jabbering away about the suits of armor, the tapestries, the art work, and anything else. Crowley listened, fascinated not only by how animated he was, but by how beautiful. He had never seen anyone like this prince. Aziraphale was everything he wanted from the stories Tracy told. He was kind, and soft, and clever, and beautiful.

‘If only things were different.’ Crowley thought bitterly. If only he could be his true self here, woo Aziraphale as he was meant to be wooed, by a fellow prince. But Crowley knew that could never happen. Caelum and Infernia may not have been the closest of allies, but Crowley knew that King Gabriel would not hesitate to send Crowley back should his identity ever become known.

“...And this is my favorite room!” Aziraphale crowed, flinging open a pair of ornate wooden doors. Crowley gasped at the massive library.

“It’s...amazing.”

Aziraphale beamed. “I know. Do you enjoy reading?” Crowley nodded. “Wonderful! We can read together.”

“Th...that sounds nice.” Crowley stammered, blushing. Thank goodness for the hood. “I...would like that.” Aziraphale somehow beamed even brighter.

A servant found them and informed Crowley that his room was ready, and also that Anathema wanted to see him in the kitchens. Crowley went back to his room, carefully hid the walnuts in one of the bureau drawers, then followed the servant to the kitchens.

Anathema looked up from the chicken she was chopping up. “You gonna take the hood off?” Crowley shook his head. “Okay. Know how to cook?” Another shake of the head. “Well, then you can help me. See that bag above your head?”

Crowley looked up. “The big one?” Ana nodded. “What do you want me to do?”

“Get it down, there’s potatoes in it. Bring me five.” Crowley stood on tiptoe and carefully pulled the bag down, sighing in relief when he didn’t drop it. He picked out five of the largest potatoes and brought them over to Ana. “Thanks. Now go over to the cold pantry-that’s the big cupboard over there-and get me carrots and mushrooms. I’m gonna teach you how to make chicken and mushroom soup. It’s Aziraphale’s favorite.”

Crowley fetched the ingredients. “What’s he like?”

Ana cut the potatoes into quarters, tossing them into a bubbling pot. “Aziraphale?” Crowley nodded and handed her the carrots. “He’s...unique. Nothing like his brother and sister, I’ll tell you that. Well, Princess Uriel’s not too bad. She’s a bit of a snob, but she’s nice enough to me, and she and Aziraphale have, well, an okay relationship. It’s Prince Sandalphon you have to watch out for. He’s the oldest, and King Gabriel dotes on him. He’s a bully, and takes a lot of it out on Aziraphale.”

Crowley watched her chop the carrots. “I think I saw them when I was being escorted to the throne room. Prince Sandalphon is kind of short, with beady eyes?” Ana nodded. “But, um...Princess Uriel, she’s...well...”

“Adopted. Well, sort of. She’s...the only survivor of a raid on her village by King Gabriel’s army. The queen felt sorry for her and took her in.”

Crowley shivered. “Does she know?” Ana nodded.

“Kind of hard to keep a secret, when your brothers are so pale and you’re so dark. I don’t know if she remembers her village, though. But she and Gabriel, they’ve never really gotten on.” Ana passed him the knife. “Here, you cut up the last two carrots.”

“Uh. Um. I...don’t know how.” Crowley stammered, holding the knife away from him. Ana smiled in pity.

“Well, first of all, you’re holding it wrong.” She corrected his grip. “Now, hold the end of the carrot in your free hand, and press down with the sharp point of the knife.”

Crowley gulped hard and did just that. A tiny piece of carrot fell onto the cutting board. “I did it.”

“Yes. Now try cutting pieces that aren’t minuscule.” Ana said with a laugh. Crowley blushed and cut a larger piece. “Good job.”

The carrots Crowley chopped came out a bit lopsided, but Ana said that was fine and tossed them in the pot, along with the mushrooms, chopped up chicken, and a variety of herbs that Crowley had never heard of. “Thyme, rosemary, a bit of lemon for flavor, some garlic, a bit of salt and pepper. Here, have a taste.” She held the ladle out, and Crowley took a sip. He licked his lips, then frowned.

“It needs something. It’s..kinda bland. Do you have any chilies?”

Anathema thought for a moment. “I think there’s some in one of the cupboards, but we never use them.” Crowley began opening cupboards, peering inside.

“Aha! Oooh, habaneros! Perfect!” He grabbed a couple and brought them over to the table. “Spice makes everything better.” He declared as he tossed them into the pot. He stirred the soup, then took a ladle full, gulping it down. “That’s much better. Here, try.” He held it out to Ana. She looked suspicious, but took a sip.

“Oh! Hot!” She gasped out, then blinked. “Oh. That...that is better. And I thought you didn’t know how to cook.”

Crowley blushed. “I don’t. Tr...someone very close to me used to make me hot pepper soup with mushrooms when I was young.” He spooned another ladle of soup into his mouth, then fished out the habanero. “Can’t keep it in, otherwise the soup’s too spicy to eat. Try it now.”

Ana took a ladle full. “It’s perfect. Okay, soup’s boiling away and ready for tonight. Want to come help me dig up some more carrots?” Crowley nodded and followed her into one of the gardens. “So why the cloak? You have some sort of horrible scar?”

“No. I just..feel more comfortable with it.”

Ana shrugged and dug into the soil, pulling up a large carrot. “Why snakeskin?”

Crowley dug up his own carrot. “I like snakes. They’re misunderstood. Everyone sees them as monstrous creatures, when really they’re gentle animals who won’t hurt someone unless provoked. And they’re beautiful. There’s so many different..colors of their scales.”

“I never thought of that.” Ana said. She looked over at Crowley. “You’re different, Crowley.”

“Yeah.”

They returned to the kitchens just in time for the dinner prep. Crowley watched in awe as Anathema took control with ease, sending out dish after dish. “You’re up, Crowley. Soup time.” She had ladled the soups into bowls and set them on the cart. Crowley took a deep breath and headed out to the dining hall.

Aziraphale smiled at him, giving him a small wave, and Crowley felt a rush of giddiness. He schooled his features into a blank mask and set the first bowl of soup in front of Gabriel, then Michael.

He set a bowl in front of Sandalphon. The eldest prince leered at him, and Crowley shivered in disgust. The princess nodded her thanks when he served her.

Aziraphale wiggled. “Oh, lovely! Chicken and mushroom soup! My favorite! Thank you so much!”

“Y’re wlcome.” Crowley mumbled, blushing furiously. He pushed the empty cart back to the kitchen and began washing the dishes, his mind full of bright blue eyes and a smile that could rival the sun.

He wanted to woo Aziraphale, court him as was befitting both their ranks. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t risk discovery. But. Maybe...he could do it in secret. Crowley dried the last dish, then slipped out of the kitchen and made his way to the gardens, where he found a bed of irises growing. He quickly plucked a handful, hid them in his cloak, and sneaked back into the kitchen. If Ana had noted his absence, she didn’t say anything.

“Aziraphale says to tell you that the soup was scrummy.” She said with a grin. “He also wants you to make it from now on.”

“Ohh...um...okay. What about the others?”

Ana cackled. “They took one bite and declared it far too hot. Aziraphale ate their portions. Pretty sure he licked all the bowls clean. Don’t worry, you aren’t in trouble.”

“Oh. Good. Ana, would you mind if I went to bed? It’s very late.” Ana shook her head. “Thanks.”

Once Crowley was in his room, he pulled out the irises. They were still in good shape. He placed them on the bureau, then found one of the servants and politely asked for a ribbon, a piece of paper, and a pen. Puzzled, the girl brought him the items. Crowley thanked her profusely.

Now came the hard bit. Crowley was no poet. How was he going to express his admiration of the prince? He sucked on the pen, then pressed it to the paper and wrote. He tied the irises up with the ribbon, then left his room.

Aziraphale’s room was down the hall, and much to Crowley’s relief, the door was unlocked. He knocked, just in case. No answer, and Crowley pushed his way inside, placing the irises on the dresser where they would be seen. He then went back to his room, his heart pounding.

Aziraphale rubbed his tired eyes and pushed open his door, yawning, then stopped dead, mouth open and eyes fixed on the beautiful bouquet of irises tied with a red ribbon on his dresser. He walked over and picked them up, breathing in their scent. That was when he noticed the paper. He picked that up, eyes welling up with tears as he read what was written on it.

‘ _Angel:_

_No flower made can match the blue of your eyes, but these wanted to try. I hope you like them.’_

There was no signature, save for a small heart at the bottom. Aziraphale clutched the flowers and note to his chest, his heart swelling.

He fell asleep with them both clutched in his hands and a happy smile on his face.


	3. Dance of Deception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley's dance of deception begins. Pray he knows all the steps.

Chapter Three: Dance of Deception

When Aziraphale awoke the next morning, the irises were only slightly crushed. He sighed happily and fetched a servant, asking for a vase with water. Once he had it, he carefully untied the ribbon, placed the irises in the water, and folded the ribbon around the base of the vase. The note he tucked away in a secret drawer of his writing desk.

There was a soft knock on his door. “Yes?”

“It’s Crowley. May I come in?”

Aziraphale frantically patted down his hair. “Yes, of course.” He watched as Crowley seemed to almost saunter into the room, his hips swaying like, well, a snake. His cloak was on, but the hood was pushed back enough so that Aziraphale thought that he caught a glimpse of flame red hair. “Morning.”

Crowley smiled back at him. “Good morning to you too. I was wondering, and if I’m being too forward, stop me, but...would you, maybe, possibly like to spend the day together? I realize it’s, um, what am I thinking, of course you...”

“I’d love to. Hang what anyone might think. If anyone asks, well, Father did give you to me as my personal servant.”

Crowley shivered in desire. “Y..yeah, that’s true.” He spotted the vase of flowers, and his heart leaped in his chest. Feigning nonchalance, he strolled over and examined the arrangement. “Nice flowers.”

Aziraphale beamed. “Aren’t they? I found them on my dresser last night, along with the most beautiful note about my eyes. I can’t imagine who could have done that.”

Crowley shrugged one shoulder. Inside, he was dancing in glee. “Maybe you have an admirer.”

“Yes, maybe so. Now, what did you want to do today?”

Crowley balked. He hadn’t gotten that far. When he had woken up, the need to be with and see Aziraphale had been tantamount. He hadn’t expected his desperate plan to really work. “Er, um...what is there to do?”

Aziraphale unbuttoned his pajama top, neatly folding it and setting it on his bed, and Crowley nearly fainted at the soft chest roped with muscles and smatterings of white blond hair. Aziraphale went to his wardrobe and selected his outfit, then went behind a screen to change. Crowley couldn’t take his eyes off the silhouette. Aziraphale emerged wearing a light blue shirt and dark blue trousers. “Well, first there’s breakfast. Then I suppose we could go to the market. It’s a huge one. People from all over the realms come to it.”

Crowley felt a shiver of terror. “In...Infernia, too?” Aziraphale looked puzzled, but nodded. “I’m..not really much for crowds, to be honest. I’d rather it just be you and me.” There was no way he was going to a market that might have Infernians. If he was recognized, if his cloak came loose and he was seen, that would be the end of it. “We could spend the day in the gardens. Have a picnic. Still warm enough for that.”

Aziraphale wiggled, and Crowley had to exert every bit of willpower he had to not take him in his arms and kiss him breathless. “That sounds delightful! I’ll have Ana make us a picnic lunch, and I’m sure I’ve got an old sheet that would suit for a blanket.”

Anathema was more than happy to make the lunch, and also quite willing to give Crowley the day off. “I can handle things. Just be back in time for dinner, okay? The King’s giving one of his feasts, so I’m going to need all the help I can get.” Crowley had taken the basket and agreed to return in time to help.

He and Aziraphale had decided on one of the less tended gardens for their picnic. “It’s a bit more wild, which suits me better,” the prince had explained. Once everything was set up, Crowley passed over a chicken and mushroom sandwich to Aziraphale. “So what’s this feast?”

Aziraphale sighed. “A way for my father to curry favor with the local nobles. He has one once a month, and they are painfully boring affairs. I’m forced to attend, unfortunately. I tried bowing out a few times, but Father gave me such a dressing down that I don’t dare anymore. It’s a complete nightmare. Drink?” He held out a bottle. Crowley took it and drank. “Is your hair red?”

Startled a bit by the abrupt change in subject, Crowley nodded. “Yeah. I, um...inherited it from my Mum. She had red hair.” And curse her for having it, he thought bitterly, or none of this would have ever happened. “So this feast. I’d imagine everyone’s dressed in their finest?”

Aziraphale took back the bottle and drank. “Yes. Everyone in their finest frippery exchanging taut pleasantries and pretending that they care about anything but themselves. Bloody nobility.”

Crowley grinned at him. “You’re one of the bloody nobility, An..Aziraphale.” Shit. He hoped Aziraphale didn’t catch the slip up. Aziraphale rolled his eyes.

“Don’t bloody remind me. I hate it. Do you know, Mother is starting to put pressure on me to find a wife? It’s not like I’m inheriting anything, and even if I was, I don’t want a wife.”

“Oh? What do you want?”

Aziraphale sighed. “Someone who loves me for me, not just because I’m a prince. Someone who will sit next to me when I read. Someone who doesn’t scold me for taking an extra serving at dinner, and who knows how to comfort me when I’m in need of it.”

‘I’ll do those things, Angel. I’ll do all those things and more.’ Crowley thought. Out loud, he said, “I hope you find the person.”

“Yeah, so do I.”

They continued to talk and eat, and before either of them knew it, the day was done and it was time to return to the palace. “I really enjoyed myself, Crowley.” Aziraphale told him. Crowley smiled.

“Me too. Good luck with the feast.”

Ana was waiting for him in the kitchen. “Right. Potatoes. Get them down and start scrubbing.” Crowley did, humming to himself as he recalled the day. Once the potatoes were done, he chopped up leeks and carrots, then helped Ana season the giant roast that was to be the main course.

“Ana? Would it be okay if I went and watched the feast for a bit? Just maybe the dancing?”

“I don’t see why not. Just don’t let Gabriel or the others catch you, or you’ll catch hell.”

Once Crowley had served everyone(shivering once more at Sandalphon’s leer and blushing down to his waist at Aziraphale’s smile), he ran as fast as he could to his room and threw off his cloak. He fetched a basin and a pitcher of water and washed his hands and face, then opened the first walnut, pulling out the suit that shimmered like the sun. He got dressed and braided up his hair before pulling out his glasses and placing them over his face. Then he sneaked out of his room, out of the castle, and walked in the front door, head held high.

Aziraphale was bored out of his mind. Everyone was dancing and having a good time except him. He wished he could sneak away, maybe find Crowley and spend more time with him. Maybe even find a way to see his face.

The trumpets sounded, and the herald stepped into the room. “Lord Anthony of Eden!” Whispers began as the most gorgeous man Aziraphale had ever seen came into the room, his head high. He had hair the color of fire, long, sharp cheekbones, and legs that seemed to go for miles. Anthony sauntered forward, and the nobles parted before him like the Red Sea. He came to a stop in front of Aziraphale.

“Majesty.” He took Aziraphale’s hand and kissed it. “When rumor reached me of a true angel in the court of Caelum, I thought it was a jest. But now I see it is naught but truth.” He had a slight Scots burr that sent a shiver up Aziraphale’s spine. “You would rival anyone here for beauty, Angel. If I may be so bold as to call you that.”

Aziraphale was dazzled, not only by the suit, but by the breathtaking beauty of this man.”I...yes. You may.”

Crowley beamed. He kissed Aziraphale’s knuckles again, breathing in the sandalwood scent of him. “Would you do me the great honor of dancing with me?” Aziraphale flushed crimson and nodded. Crowley took his hands and led him onto the floor. “Relax.”

“I’m...not really much of a dancer, Lord Anthony.”

“Just Anthony, and you’ll be fine. Just follow my lead.” Crowley said softly before carefully guiding Aziraphale in a waltz. “See? You’re doing great.”

“O...oh, thank you. May I ask, why the...” Aziraphale waved his hand in front of his face. Crowley spun him.

“I am very sensitive to bright lights, so I wear the coverings to protect my eyes.” ‘And so you don’t realize who I am, because then you will hate me for deceiving you. And I cannot bear that.’

Aziraphale nodded in understanding and pressed a bit closer, laying his head on ‘Lord Anthony’s’ shoulder.

Crowley was sure his heart was pounding loud enough for the entire kingdom to hear. He held Aziraphale, the two of them swaying in time to the music.

Gabriel watched them. “Wife?”

Michael looked over at him. “Yes, husband?” They did not love each other, but there was a sort of grudging affection.

“That man dancing with Aziraphale. Have you ever seen him before?”

Michael shook her head. “No. Looks rather rich, judging by the suit. Shall I go speak to him?” Gabriel nodded, and Michael stood and walked over to her youngest son. “Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale and Crowley sprang apart, blushing, as though they had been caught doing something much more intimate than dancing. “Mother!” the prince squeaked out. “Have you met Lord Anthony?”

“My Queen.” Crowley bowed at the waist. Michael nodded. “This palace is the finest I have ever seen, Your Highness. You should be proud.”

“Indeed. I do not remember seeing you at previous feasts, My Lord.”

Crowley smiled. “There is an explanation, Majesty. I am only newly given the title of Lord, from my Uncle Adam. He died without issue, and I was the last remaining member of his family. I had been living abroad up until six months ago, and Eden was in dire need of repairs when I arrived.” Crowley mentally patted himself on the back for being able to lie to the Queen’s face.

Michael nodded again, then turned and walked back to her throne. Crowley frowned. “Did I offend her?”

Aziraphale shook his head. “Mother doesn’t get offended. She’s, well, a queen.”

Crowley laughed. “That she is.” He felt something in his hand, and looked down. “Ngk.”

Aziraphale squeezed his fingers. “This okay?” He asked gently. Crowley gulped and nodded.

“You know...the balcony has a beautiful view of the stars. Would you like to see?”

Crowley’s brain short circuited. “Y...yeah.” Aziraphale led him through a set of double doors onto the balcony. It was empty, and Crowley felt himself shivering.

“Look at all of them.” Aziraphale said in wonder, and Crowley looked up to see thousands of stars. “They’re all so beautiful. I wish I knew their names.”

Crowley took his hand and pointed. “That’s Polaris, the North Star, and it forms the tail of Ursa Major, the Great Bear. Look.” He traced the shape with Aziraphale’s hands. “And that one, there. That’s Taurus, the bull, and Orion, and Lyra.”

Aziraphale gazed at him, rapt. “How do you know so much about stars?”

Crowley blushed but didn’t drop his hand. “Sorta a hobby of mine. Can I show you my favorite?” Aziraphale nodded, and Crowley gently turned so he was facing in an eastward direction. “Do you see that star right in that corner?” Aziraphale followed his finger and nodded. “That’s Alpha Centauri. It’s actually two stars orbiting each other.”

“Oh, how lovely.” Aziraphale said in a soft voice. Crowley turned and found himself captured by blue eyes. Aziraphale reached up, and for a heartbeat of terror, Crowley thought he was going to take off his glasses. Instead, Aziraphale’s hands cupped his face and pulled him in to a soft kiss.

It was chaste, and lasted for mere minutes, but to Crowley, it was Heaven. Aziraphale tasted of apples and honey, and his lips were wonderfully soft. Aziraphale sighed, then pulled away, his eyes shining. “We should go back inside, it’s getting cold.”

Crowley squeezed his hand, and together they went back into the ballroom. “My prince, I...I must leave. It is a long journey back to my home.”

Aziraphale nodded. “Will I see you again?”

“You may count on it.” Crowley kissed his forehead and left the room. Once out of sight, he ran back to his room, removed the suit and put on his snakeskin cloak before pulling out a sheet of paper and pen from the bureau. He wrote for a few minutes, then headed back to the ballroom. At first, the guard refused to let him in. “Look, just, fetch Prince Aziraphale. The lord that gave me this letter said I was to give it to him and him alone.”

Aziraphale was fetched, and he beamed at the man who was fast becoming his best friend. “Crowley!”

“Hey. So, I was emptying the rubbish when this fancy ponce comes over and asks if I know you. I say yeah, and he gives me this letter and asks me to give it to you. Says it’s important.” He shoved the letter that ‘Lord Anthony’ had written into Aziraphale’s hands. “Anyway. ‘s late, and I’ve got work tomorrow, so g’night.” He turned and left, leaving Aziraphale blinking in slight shock.

Aziraphale opened the paper.

‘My dearest Aziraphale:

I cannot tell you what a true pleasure tonight was. You are the most wonderful person to ever grace the earth. Dancing with you was a dream, and I fervently hope to have that dream again. You are everything I ever wanted, and that kiss will remain burned forever in my memory as one of the most precious moments of my life.

With great affection,

Anthony.’

Aziraphale sighed and hugged the letter. “Mine too.” He whispered to himself. He wished Crowley hadn’t gone to bed. Aziraphale wanted to tell him all about Anthony. But would Crowley be jealous? No, that was ridiculous.

In his room, Crowley lay awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering just how long he could keep up the dance of deception before he tripped.


	4. A Vicious Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second ball brings more romance for Aziraphale and 'Anthony', but a vicious attack threatens to destroy Crowley's ruse for good.

Chapter Four: A Vicious Attack

**Infernia**

Tracy notched another mark into the wall of her cell. The guard had already been by with her meager meal of watered down soup and lukewarm water, and the empty bowls sat by the door, ready to be retrieved. 

Tracy looked around at the sound of footsteps. She glared implacably at Lucifer. “I’ll ask you again, Madam. Tell me where my son went, and I’ll let you go.”

Tracy glared harder. “Even if I did know, I would not tell you. All I care is that he is safe from your terrible ministrations.” Lucifer left in a foul mood. Tracy fell back against the wall, sighing. Wherever Crowley was, she prayed he was safe and happy. 

**Caelum**

Crowley was, at the moment, happier than he could ever remember being. He was currently in the castle library, curled up on one of the many window seats and listening raptly as Aziraphale read to him from a book of poetry. The prince had a voice like rich honey, flowing over the red head and sending  him into quiet ecstasies. Crowley couldn’t help but notice that Aziraphale kept pushing his glasses up his nose. “Problem?” 

Aziraphale sighed in annoyance and looked over at his other best friend. “It’s these blasted glasses. They keep slipping down. I’d take them off, but I need them for reading.” Crowley thought for a minute. 

“Give ‘em here.” Aziraphale handed them over, and Crowley unclasped his necklace. He removed the pendant, then strung the chain over the ear pieces. “That should help.” He handed the glasses back. Aziraphale took them, eyes wide. 

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” 

Crowley was very glad of his hood. “S nothing, really. I just, wanted to do something for you.” ‘ Because I am falling hopelessly in love with you.’ He pointed to the book. “Keep reading?”

Aziraphale slipped on his glasses and continued. Crowley sat back, eyes closed as the prince’s voice flowed over him once more. 

He had been here for nearly two months now, and the fear of discovery was beginning to fade. He still had not let Aziraphale fully see his face(the prince knew he had red hair and of course knew about the eyes, but nothing else) for fear that he might recognize him as ‘Lord Anthony’ and ask all sorts of uncomfortable questions. 

So far, in his role as ‘Anthony’, Crowley had ‘sent’ several love letters, all ‘hand delivered’ by Crowley. Aziraphale had devoured each of them, reading them over and over with a starry eyed look on his face. Crowley would finish his duties in the kitchen, then find Aziraphale and hand him another letter, staying while the prince read the words he had written, a bright, happy smile on his face. 

“He’s so eloquent. I wish I could write like he does. I wish I could see him again.” Aziraphale had said after one particularly romantic letter. Crowley gulped. 

“Well, tomorrow night’s the monthly ball, right? Maybe you’ll see him then.”

“Will I see you?” Aziraphale asked. Crowley bit his lip. 

“Nah, Ana’s gonna keep me pretty busy. But you can tell me all about it later.”

The next night, after finishing his kitchen duties, Crowley raced to his room and washed up. He dug out the second shell and cracked it open, revealing the suit that shone like the moon. He dressed and did up his hair in a different, more elaborate braid, then donned his glasses and slipped out of the palace. 

Aziraphale sipped at his wine, his eyes scanning the room. It was getting late, and so far Anthony had not put in an appearance. Aziraphale sighed and was about to accept the fact that he most likely was not coming when the doors to the ballroom opened and Anthony sauntered in. 

Aziraphale nearly fainted. He was wearing a suit that shone like the moon, and his hair was piled on top of his head in one of the most elaborate braids the prince had ever seen. If only he wasn’t wearing those blasted glasses. Aziraphale so wanted to see his eyes. He tried his best to keep from wiggling in happiness when Anthony spotted him and came over, a brilliant smile on his face. “Aziraphale.” God, that Scots burr did things to his insides. 

“M...My Lord.” 

Crowley lifted Aziraphale’s hand to his lips, kissing it. “Come now, there’s no need for such formality between us, my prince.” Aziraphale shivered. 

“Anthony. I’m so...delighted to see you.”

“And I you, Angel. I do apologize for my lateness. My carriage broke down and I had to have it repaired. You understand.”

“Oh. O...of of course.” Aziraphale said, blushing. Crowley took his other hand. 

“May I have this dance?” Aziraphale nodded, and Crowley led him onto the floor. They swayed together, Aziraphale gazing up into Crowley’s face. “Did you get my letter?”

“Yes. I loved it. I love all the letters you send me. My...friend, Crowley, he delivers them.”

“Ah. Yes.”

Aziraphale laid his head on Anthony’s shoulder. “How do you know him?”

Crowley froze. “He’ s a distant relative. Third or fourth cousin twice removed, something like that.” Aziraphale nodded, seeming to accept the answer. Crowley silently sighed in relief. 

“Do you believe in love at first sight?” Aziraphale asked. Crowley blinked. 

“I...don’t know.” ‘Yes, yes I do, because the second I saw you, my sweet prince, my angel, I was lost.’ “Never really experienced it.”

Aziraphale sighed and looked up at him. “I didn’t either. But...I think maybe I’m changing my mind.” He took a deep breath. “Kiss me?” 

Crowley cupped Aziraphale’s face in his hands and pressed their lips together. Fireworks burst before his eyes, and his whole body felt like it was on fire. His angel’s lips were so blessedly soft, and the sighs and sounds he was making were driving Crowley insane with desire. “C..can..is there someplace we can go?” He asked breathlessly. 

Aziraphale took his hand and led him behind one of the tapestries. Crowley pressed him against the wall and recaptured his lips, stroking them with his tongue. Aziraphale gasped, his own hands on Crowley’s face. He inched upwards...only a bit more…

Crowley sprang away from him so fast that Aziraphale blinked. “I...I have to go, so sorry!” He turned and ran out of the room, leaving the bewildered prince behind. Aziraphale blinked back tears. What had he done? 

Crowley slammed his door shut and sank on his bed, panting. That had been far too close. If Aziraphale had taken off his glasses, the whole charade would have come crashing down. Crowley’s eyes were too unique. Aziraphale would have known, and he would have been hurt and angry. Crowley changed into his servant’s garb, pulling on his cloak. 

There was a knock on his door. Crowley flipped up his hood. “One moment.” He hid his silver suit then opened the door. His stomach plummeted when he saw who was on the  other side. “Prince Sandalphon. What do you want?” 

Sandalphon smirked and stepped close to him. Crowley stepped back, his heart pounding in horror. “I think you know, Crawley.”

“No, I’m afraid I don’t know. But it is very late, and I am quite tired.” Crowley insisted, trying to keep his fear off his face. “I must ask that you leave, Majesty.” Sandalphon stepped closer. 

“Servants don’t tell royalty what to do, Crawley. Now, if you cooperate and do as I tell you, I’ll make it quick. You may even enjoy it.” 

Crowley stood to his full height. “Prince Sandalphon, I will not ask you again to leave.” He gasped in terror when Sandalphon slapped him hard across the face, sending him crashing to the floor. “You fucking bastard!”  Crowley rubbed his stinging cheek. Sandalphon advanced and lifted him up. 

“You had your chance, Crawley. I’m not gonna be so nice now.” Crowley scratched at his face. Sandalphon slapped him again. “Wildcat. I like that.” He threw Crowley onto the bed, pinning him down. Crowley howled and fought like a wild animal. Sandalphon punched him. “Now, let’s see what you look like.” He ripped off the hood. “Ooh, nice. Now, there’s still a chance for you to enjoy this. Just stop struggling.”

“GET OFF ME, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!” 

Sandalphon sighed in mock pity. “Well, if that’s how you want to play, so be it.” 

Crowley screamed in terror. 

Sandalphon buttoned up his trousers, a satisfied smirk on his face. He patted Crowley’s cheek. “You were wonderful, Crawley.” He laughed viciously and left. 

Crowley curled up in the middle of his bed. His tears had dried long ago, and his voice was gone. He hurt. He hurt so much. Sandalphon had been brutal, and Crowley was certain he was bleeding. He stank of the bastard. Crowley rubbed his arms. He had to get rid of the smell, he was filthy, he was disgusting, he  was tainted, he was…

He would have screamed at the knock on his door, but he had no voice left. “Crowley? I know it’s horribly late, but I need to talk to you.” 

“Zirphle..” Crowley choked out the name. “Go ‘way...” 

“I...no. I’m coming in. I’m sorry, but I...oh my god.” Aziraphale came over. “What...who did this?” 

Crowley wanted to vomit. “S...Sandalphon. He...he...” Aziraphale sat on the bed, and a dam in Crowley broke. He surged up into the prince’s arms, not caring that Aziraphale would most likely realize who he was from his face. He needed his angel. Crowley’s entire body shook with the force of his sobs. “I...I hurt so much, Aziraphale. He...hurt me so much. I begged for him to stop, but he just laughed and hurt me more. He said it was his right, that I was nobody, and that I should be thankful for...his attentions. I smell like him! I don’t want to smell like him!” Crowley began frantically rubbing his arms. “Get it off me, get it off me, get it off!” 

Aziraphale held him close, hatred like he had never known surging through his veins. How dare Sandalphon hurt Crowley so? He had never done anything to merit that. Right now, though, his priority was Crowley. He looked a lot like Anthony, Aziraphale thought. Maybe they were more closely related than either of them realized. “Dear?” 

“Hmm?”

“Do you think you can walk?” 

Crowley thought for a second, then shook his head. Aziraphale nodded. “Okay, then I’ll carry you.” He stood, Crowley in his arms. He carried him out of his room and into the prince’s room, laying him down gently on a sofa. “I’ll be right back.” Crowley whimpered and reached out for him. “I’m just going to  ring for a servant. ”  He pressed a soft kiss to Crowley’s forehead, then went to the bell pull. 

A servant arrived moments later. “You sent for me, Majesty?” 

Aziraphale nodded. “Fetch hot water and bandages, please. And do not ask me why. I will also need cloths used for bathing.” The servant bowed and left. Aziraphale returned to the sofa. Crowley wrapped himself around the prince, shaking. 

“D..don’t leave me again, please don’t leave me...” He sobbed. Aziraphale ran his fingers through the red hair. “Hurt...”

“I know, my dear. I know.” Aziraphale soothed, stroking his bare spine. Under normal circumstances, he thought to himself, having a naked Crowley in his arms would have caused him to blush like a schoolgirl. But these were far from normal circumstances. 

The servant returned with the items he had asked for. Aziraphale thanked him, then dismissed him, charging him to not tell anyone. 

Crowley watched as Aziraphale set a basin of water on the floor, then knelt in front of him. He dipped a cloth in the water. “If this stings, let me know, okay?” Crowley nodded. Aziraphale gently pressed the cloth to one of his wounds. Crowley winced. “Okay, love?” 

“Y..yeah.” 

Aziraphale cleaned him up. By the time he was done, the water in the basin was a bright pink. He bandaged the worst of them. “There.”

Crowley’s face was wet with tears. “Aziraphale...I...thank you.” He had to tell him the truth. “Aziraphale...I...”

“Save it. Whatever it is, it can wait. But from now on, this is your room too. Sandalphon won’t come in here. I’ll go talk to Ana tomorrow and tell her you won’t be able to help in the kitchen for a while. I’ll see if I have any night clothes that would fit you.”

“M..my cloak...”

Aziraphale kissed the top of his head. “It’s still intact. I have it hanging above my bed. Do you want it?” Crowley nodded, then yawned. “Do you think you can get some sleep, my darling?” 

“I...if you’re with me.” Crowley whispered. 

“Of course. Come on.” He lifted Crowley into his arms once more and carried him into the bedroom. Crowley felt himself marveling at how strong he was. Aziraphale gently laid him on the bed before handing him his snakeskin cloak. Crowley slipped it on, not bothering with the hood. It was rather a moot point at this juncture anyway. Aziraphale changed into his night clothes before climbing into bed. Crowley clung to him. Aziraphale stroked his hair. “Has anyone told you how beautiful you are?” The prince whispered. Crowley shook his head. “You are. Your hair and eyes are so very lovely, as is the rest of you. I only wish...things were different.”

“Me too. Um..what was it you wanted to talk about?”

Aziraphale pulled the covers over them both. “Nothing important. It can wait. Sleep, my dear.” Crowley pressed closer and shut his eyes, breathing in the sandalwood scent of the man he loved. 

Aziraphale was first up the next morning. He stared at the sleeping Crowley for several moments, his heart light. He was so beautiful. Aziraphale gently stroked his cheek, and the redhead hummed, pressing himself into Aziraphale’s hand. “Ziraphle...” The prince sighed. What a dilemma he was facing. He slipped out of bed and dressed before heading out. Whenever he had a problem he couldn’t figure out, his first course was to go to Anathema. She had an almost uncanny knack for figuring out even the most thorny of problems. 

As he was heading for the kitchens, he heard the unmistakable sound of Sandalphon’s laughter. “Pretty thing, too. Nice and tight, and that red hair...lemme tell you, that snake has quite the bite.” Aziraphale saw red. He rounded the corner and saw Sandalphon standing with a group of his toadies. “Aziraphale.” The prince came forward and slammed his brother against the wall. Sandalphon blinked at him. “What’s wrong with you?”

“You touch him again, and I will kill you.” Aziraphale growled, his eyes blazing in rage. “Do you understand me?!”

“Touch...wait, are you talking about Crawley?” 

“His name is **Crowley.** ” Aziraphale snarled. “And you had no right to hurt him like you did. I mean it, Sandalphon. You hurt him again, you so much as leer at him, and you are a dead man.” He shoved his brother aside and started down the hall. 

“I’ll tell Father!” 

Aziraphale  straightened and turned. “I don’t care.” He kept walking.

Anathema was chopping up the chicken for dinner when Aziraphale came in. “Morning. I’ve got some porridge bubbling away if you want to try some.” Aziraphale shook his head. “Okay, what’s the matter? You never refuse my porridge.”

“Is it..possible to be in love with two people at once?” 

Anathema put down her knife. “Tell me.”

Aziraphale sat at one of the stools. “I don’t know what to do, Ana. You...you’ve heard me talk of Lord Anthony, yes?” Anathema nodded. “He’s come to the last few balls, and when he’s here, I feel...like I’m the only person that matters to him. He’s so kind, and gentle, and handsome. All the letters he writes, they’re full of such poetry and love, and I cherish them all. But I’m afraid...at the ball last night, we were kissing behind one of the tapestries...” Ana squealed in delight, and Aziraphale blushed. “But then I...tried to take his glasses off, so I could see his eyes, and he bolted like a scared colt.” 

Ana’s face betrayed nothing. “Who’s the other man?”

Aziraphale blushed and mumbled something that sounded like ‘Rley.”

“Sorry, what was that?” 

“Crowley. I, after Anthony left so suddenly, I wanted to go talk to him, since well, he’s my friend, and...” Aziraphale took a deep breath. “Sandalphon had...attacked him. R..raped him. I got him cleaned up, and he looks so much like Anthony, it’s astounding. I wonder if...maybe they’re more closely related than either of them realizes. Crowley...he slept in my arms last night, and when I woke up...it hit me. I’m...falling in love with him, but I’m also falling for Anthony, and I don’t know what to do.”

Anathema sighed. “The choice is yours, Aziraphale. Crowley’s a servant, and Anthony’s a noble. That’s less likely to cause a scandal.” 

Aziraphale nodded. “I should...just keep treating Crowley like a friend, you’re right. Besides, it’s not as though he feels anything for me beyond that.” Ana nodded and spooned some porridge into a bowl. 

“I’m gonna go take some of this to Crowley. He probably is awake by now and wondering where you are.” Aziraphale nodded absently. 

Crowley was indeed awake and nearly in a panic at Aziraphale’s absence. He jumped and yelped when the bedroom door opened. “Ana.”

“Morning. Brought you some porridge.” She set the bowl on the nightstand beside him. “Aziraphale...he told me what happened. I’m sorry.” 

Crowley shivered and took a spoonful of porridge. “’S good.” 

“Glad you like it...Anthony.” Anathema said placidly. Crowley nearly dropped the spoon. 

“W...what did you call me?” 

Ana stared into his eyes. “Anthony. You are ‘Lord Anthony’, aren’t you?” Crowley looked down at the bed and nodded. “Why pretend to be a servant?” 

“Because...I’m not Lord Anthony either.” He grasped Ana’s hands in a vice grip. “Swear to me that what I am about to tell you stays between us.” Ana nodded. “My name is Anthony Crowley. I am the only child of King Lucifer and Queen Lilith Crowley of Infernia. My mother died when I was young, and she made my father promise that if he ever married again, it would only be to someone with hair as red as hers. When I reached my twenty first birthday, Beelzebub, the head of the Royal Council, told me my father wanted to see me. He...had..a proposal for me.” Even now, months later, Crowley’s stomach still roiled at the memory of that horrid moment. “I...look very much like my mother.”

Ana’s hand flew to her mouth in horror. “He...proposed..marriage to you?” Crowley nodded. “To his own son?!” 

“I tried to dissuade him, but he wouldn’t be moved. I...asked for certain items, sure they would be unobtainable. But when he got them, I saw no choice but to flee. Tracy, a woman who had been my Nanny growing up and was now my friend, helped me. I’m pretty sure my father threw her in the dungeon. When I arrived here and saw Aziraphale, I loved him from the start. But I was so terrified of discovery and being sent back that I...concocted Lord Anthony as a way to woo him. But now ‘Crowley’ is in love with him too, and...I don’t know how long I can keep the charade up.”

Ana sighed. “He loves both of you. He told me this morning. Sooner or later you’re going to have to decide who you really are, and...tell him the truth.”

Crowley stared at the bed. “He’ll hate me for lying.”

“Honey, you can’t keep it up forever. I’ll keep your secret, just as I promised, but Aziraphale’s not stupid. Sooner or later he’ll figure it out. It’s just up to you whether he learns the truth from you or finds out on his own.” 

“I know.” 

Ana took the empty bowl and went back to the kitchen, where she found a sheet of paper used for making grocery lists and a pen. She sat at the table and began writing. 

Her Aunt Tracy would no doubt be glad to know that Crowley was safe. 


	5. Snowy Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first snowfall brings confessions, forgiveness, and, quite possibly, love.

Chapter Five: Snowy Kisses

There was an unexpected warmth pressed against Crowley. The disguised prince stiffened, his heart pounding. Whatever the warmth was, it was extremely solid, but also had a few soft spots. What was it, and why was it in his bed?

Slowly, he shifted around to confront whatever it was and found himself face to face with a sleeping Aziraphale. The prince had a slight smile on his face, and as Crowley gaped, he snuggled closer and mumbled “Crlwy...” Why was Aziraphale in his…

Memory hit him. The ball, the kiss behind the tapestry, running when his secret was almost revealed, then...Sandalphon had..he had...Crowley choked on a sob and pressed himself tight against Aziraphale, head buried in the crook of his neck. He was in Aziraphale’s room, in his bed. He was clean, and safe, and warm.

A hand was gently combing through his hair. He whimpered and pressed closer. Crowley wanted to lie here for the rest of eternity, safe and warm in the arms of this angel he loved so deeply. “D’nt stop...”

Aziraphale’s voice was still a bit thick with sleep. “Don’t intend to. Your hair is so beautiful, Crowley. So silky. I could spend all day petting you.”

Crowley liked that idea. He liked it quite a lot. Sighing, he wrapped his arms and legs around the prince. “I’d like that.” He whispered. Aziraphale pressed a kiss to his forehead, and Crowley murmured in contentment. “You’re so very warm...”

“You are too...oh! Crowley! Look out the window!” Crowley raised his head and looked. Soft white flakes were coming down. Aziraphale beamed. “It’s snowing! Isn’t it beautiful.”

Crowley had to agree. “Wanna go out in it?” Aziraphale blinked at him. “You’ve got warm clothes, right?” A nod. “Well, my cloak will keep me warm. Come on, let’s go play in the snow.”

Aziraphale blinked. “I haven’t done that since I was a child. Father always scolded me for getting my clothes messy, so I just...stopped.” Crowley frowned and climbed out of bed. Aziraphale pointedly ignored the way the cloak clung to him like a second skin, trying also not to remember that he was naked underneath. The redhead went to Aziraphale’s closet.

“Winter clothing?” He asked over his shoulder. Aziraphale pointed to the left side of the closet. Crowley dove into the depths and emerged with a pair of tan trousers, a cream colored jumper, and a winter coat that turned out to be blue once the dust was blown, beaten, and brushed off it. He laid the items on the bed. “Gloves, scarves?” Aziraphale pointed to his dresser.

“Second drawer.” Crowley fetched gloves and a bright red scarf. Aziraphale took the clothing and went behind the screen to change. “What about you?”

“Told you, my cloak will keep me warm enough.” Crowley said, watching as Aziraphale’s shadow shed its nightshirt. “Sides, I run cold anyway. Won’t bother me too much.”

Aziraphale came out from behind the screen, wrapping his scarf around his neck. “My dear, you are not going out there in naught but a snakeskin cloak. Now, I have more than enough clothing. Find an outfit that fits and put it on.” Crowley went back into the closet and found a pair of dark blue trousers, a black jumper, and a black winter coat. Aziraphale nodded approval. “Good. Go change, and I’ll find some boots for us.”

Aziraphale found a pair of boots he thought would fit Crowley. “All changed?”

“Yeah.” Came the reply from behind the screen. Crowley stepped out, and Aziraphale had to clutch onto the handle of the closet door to keep from fainting. Crowley noticed the look. “Is...everything okay?”

“Yes!” Aziraphale squeaked out. “You um...you clean up well.” That was a bit of an understatement, Aziraphale thought. Crowley blushed, scuffing the carpet with his bare toe.

“Thanks. Those boots for me?” Aziraphale blinked back to awareness, staring down at the boots in his hand.

“Yes. Yes, they are.” He handed them over, and Crowley sat on the bed and pulled them on. Aziraphale rummaged in his drawer and found a dark blue scarf, handing it over to Crowley. “Shall we?”

The newly fallen snow crunched under their feet as they walked around the grounds. Flakes were still falling, and Aziraphale stuck out his tongue and captured some. Crowley did the same, grimacing a bit at the cold feeling. He looked over at Aziraphale and giggled. “You look like an ice cream.”

Aziraphale laughed. “Do I?”

Crowley stopped and turned so he was facing the prince. “Yeah. Snow in your hair, makes it look like you’ve got a halo.” Aziraphale blinked up at him. Crowley gulped and closed the gap between them, capturing Aziraphale’s lips in a passionate kiss. Aziraphale grasped onto Crowley’s lapels, moans and sighs of delight coming from his own mouth. “Aziraphale...you...taste so good...”

Aziraphale whimpered in need and pressed his body against Crowley’s. He had never, in all his twenty four years, ever dreamed that a kiss could be this magnetic, this electrifying. It was even better than the kiss Anthony had given him. Oh god. Anthony. Aziraphale was betraying him. Wasn’t he? No, that couldn’t be right. Ana had told him he needed to make a choice. Aziraphale loved the letters, he did. But Anthony only showed up during the feasts, and Crowley had been by his side for four months now. “I’ve made my choice.”

Crowley kept kissing him. “What choice is that?”

“You. I choose you. I care deeply for Anthony, but you are the one who has my heart.” Aziraphale pulled away just enough so he could look into the beautiful golden eyes. “I love you, Crowley.”

Crowley gasped. “I...I love you too. Aziraphale...I loved you from the start. And I am so, so sorry. I can’t...can’t keep lying to you. I have to tell you some things, and...when I’m done, I don’t know if you’ll love me any more.”

“Nothing you tell me will make me not love you.” Aziraphale said, stroking Crowley’s cheek with his gloved thumb.

“Can we go inside? I...I need to show you some things.” Aziraphale nodded, and they went inside and to the prince’s room. “There’s...a few things in my room I need to get.” Crowley said softly. He left and returned with two suits draped over one arm. Aziraphale’s eyes widened.

“Th..those are the suits Anthony wore. How did you get them?” Crowley lifted his hands to his hair and braided it up. Aziraphale’s eyes went wide. “You...YOU LIED TO ME?!”

“No, I..I had to.” Crowley said, stricken.

“WHY?! WHY PRETEND TO...YOU WROTE THE LETTERS! DID YOU MEAN ANY OF THOSE WORDS, OR WAS IT JUST PART OF THE CHARADE?!”

Crowley shook his head, tears threatening to fall. “I meant every word I wrote. Please, Angel, just...listen. That’s all I ask.”

Aziraphale glared at him. “It had better be good.” Crowley took a breath.

“I wasn’t lying about my name. It really is Anthony, but everyone calls me Crowley. I’m...a prince. Specifically, the Infernian prince. My mother, Lilith, had hair as red as mine. She died when I was young. My father...he left me in the care of a woman named Tracy. She reared me. My life was, well, you know what palace life is like.” Aziraphale continued to glare. “I’m telling the truth.”

“Why are you here?”

Crowley gulped. “Because...I was being forced to marry against my will. It was...the marriage, it was one that should never be. Sinful, and vile. See, before my mother died, she made my father swear that if he ever remarried, it would only be to someone with hair like hers. Guess who that was.”

Aziraphale gasped in horror and disgust. “Oh my god. But, why the disguise? Why not just come here and ask for sanctuary?”

Crowley snorted. “Do you think your father would have granted it to me?” Aziraphale sighed.

“No, he would have dismissed you for a liar and sent you back. Which...how do I know this isn’t another lie?”

“It’s not. Angel, I swear it’s not. Please...you have to believe me. I never...meant to lie to you. Never to you.” Crowley came over and knelt in front of the prince. “I know you must hate me. I meant it, in the letters, when I said how much I loved you. Anthony...he wasn’t all a ruse. Those nights, I treasured them. I could...in a way, I could be myself. But then I started falling in love with you when I was Crowley, and I realized that I couldn’t keep lying.”

Aziraphale huffed out a breath. “Is that...why you wore the glasses?” Crowley nodded. “You knew I’d recognize you from your eyes.” Another nod. “You lied to me. Deceived me. I don’t...don’t how to feel right now. But you need to go. I can’t...I can’t be around you right now.”

“Angel, no, please, don’t send me away. Please, Aziraphale. I am so sorry, I never meant to hurt you.” Crowley clasped his knees. “I’m begging you.”

Aziraphale blinked back his own tears. “Crowley..get out. I don’t care where you go. I’m not...sending you out of Caelum, but...I’d rather not see you.”

Crowley stood, his entire body shaking with sobs. “Okay. I’ll go.” He turned and trudged out the door, closing it behind him. Aziraphale threw himself on the bed and began sobbing his heart out.

Ana was reading in her room when someone knocked on her door. “It’s open!” She turned to face her visitor. “Crowley? What happened?”

Crowley came over and fell into her arms, his entire body heaving with the force of his crying. “He hates me, he hates me he...” he choked on his tears. Ana put down her book and gave him her full attention.

“Who hates you?”

“A...Aziraphale. He hates me.”

“Pretty sure it’s the opposite.”

Crowley shook his head. “We...woke up, and it was snowing, and I asked if he wanted to go out in it, and we did, and...we kissed. Like, real proper kissing. And...he said the words. Said he loved me. And...I couldn’t keep lying. So we came back inside, and I told him the truth and now...he hates me!” Crowley wailed. “I lost him. I..I don’t know what to do. He doesn’t want to see me or talk to me.”

Anathema sighed. Damn that stubborn prince sometimes. “He’s just upset.”

“Hates me...” Crowley sobbed. Ana pulled him closer, smirking to herself at another knock on the door.

“Come in, Zira.”

“You know I hate that name.” Aziraphale said in a very subdued tone as he walked into the room and over to Crowley. “Can I sit?” Crowley nodded. “Crowley...I...I am so sorry. I lashed out, and I hurt you.” He placed his hand on Crowley’s cheek. “I meant what I said earlier. You have my heart. Can you ever forgive me, my love?”

Crowley leaned forward and pressed his forehead to Aziraphale’s. “Always, my angel. Always.” Aziraphale pressed a loving kiss to his brow. “I love you, Aziraphale.”

“I love you...Anthony.” Aziraphale said, his tone light. Crowley laughed and shook his head.

“Crowley to you.”

“Crowley. Those suits...where did you get them?”

Crowley gulped. “I tried to delay my...wedding by asking my father for three suits, one that shone like the sun, the other that shimmered like the moon, and the third that was as black as the sky at midnight. I also asked for a cloak made of a thousand snakeskins. I thought for sure those things would be impossible. But...he got them, and Tracy helped me flee that night.” Crowley laid his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder. “I wish I knew if she was safe or not.”

Anathema stood and went over to her dresser. She opened the top drawer and took out something wrapped in string, then walked over and handed it to Crowley. “Letters?”

Ana nodded. “Tracy’s last name, is it Shadwell?” Crowley nodded, eyes wide. “She’s my aunt. Those are the letters she’s written me in the last few months. From the dungeons. Apparently your father threw her in there for refusing to tell him where you’d gone. One of the guards is sweet on her and smuggles the letters out. I’ve written back, told her only that you were safe.”

Aziraphale ran his fingers through Crowley’s hair. “What if the letters got intercepted?”

Ana grinned. “We have a code.”

Crowley had opened a letter and was reading it. “Well, at least they’re feeding her. My father’s stopped sending soldiers because the snow is too deep. Beelzebub seems to be running the day to day operations, as they usually do.” Aziraphale blinked.

“You can read that jumble of nonsense?” The letter was a mishmash of words and numbers, some of which made no sense. Crowley nodded.

“Yeah, ‘course. It’s a substitution cypher. Each letter stands for another. Now, the easiest cypher is to simply replace the letter you want with the letter after it. Like A for B, B for C, and so on. But that’s too easily broken. So what this does is it takes the letter you want and replaces it with the letter five steps away. So E for A.”

Aziraphale’s face lit in understanding. “And the numbers?”

“Just numbers.”

Ana blinked. “Aunt Tracy taught you her codes?”

“Yeah, it was a fun way to pass the time. It got to so I could write whole paragraphs in it. She’d copy passages out of books and have me translate them.” Crowley blinked at a memory, then laughed. “She talked about you sometimes. Said she had a niece that lived over the mountains. She had a week off every month, and I guess she was coming here.”

“She came to visit a few times when Granny Agnes was still alive.” Anathema said fondly. “Zira, you might remember her. Tall, blonde hair, lots of makeup and jewelry?”

Aziraphale thought. “Oh. Yes, I do remember now. Very brash sort of woman.”

Crowley chuckled. “That’s Tracy.”

Aziraphale smiled. “Crowley? Come back with me to our room?”

“Okay.” Crowley whispered, his heart pounding. They said their goodbyes to Ana and left.

When they arrived back at their room(and Crowley felt a thrill of joy at those words) Aziraphale steered him over to the sofa. They sat, and Aziraphale faced him. “I am so sorry.”

“I already forgave you, Angel.”

Aziraphale stroked his cheek. “My serpent...” Crowley giggled. “Can we do something? Can we...forget that fight ever happened?” Crowley nodded. “Kiss me. Like you did this morning.”

Crowley leaned over and kissed him with every ounce of love he had. Aziraphale kissed back, wrapping his arms around the redhead and pulling him into his lap. Crowley pressed Aziraphale against the back of the sofa and moved so there was not an inch of space between them. “I love you. I love you so much, Aziraphale. My angel. My prince.”

“My prince. My serpent, my love.” Aziraphale whispered between breathless kisses. “Can I touch you?”

“Please...” Crowley gasped out. Aziraphale slipped his hands over Crowley’s shoulders, pushing the coat off. It fell to the floor, and Aziraphale slid his hands under Crowley’s jumper, tracing the cool flesh. He pressed his palm to Crowley’s skin, and Crowley gasped in desire. “More...please...”

Aziraphale tugged at the bottom of the jumper. “Arms.” Crowley lifted his arms, and Aziraphale pulled off the jumper, moaning to himself at the sight of Crowley’s bare chest inches from his face. “Oh god...so beautiful.” He sucked a kiss into Crowley’s neck. Crowley yelped in desire. Aziraphale pressed kisses to the bare skin. He kissed the hollow of Crowley’s throat, then mouthed kisses down to his sternum. Crowley whined, his head thrown back. Aziraphale pulled him close and pressed a kiss to his right nipple, flicking it with his tongue.

“Aziraphale...” Crowley was drunk on desire. Aziraphale’s lips on his skin burned in the most beautiful of ways. “Oh my god...Zirphale...”

Aziraphale kissed him again. “Crowley...oh god you taste so good...feel so good...”

“Azira...your mouth...so wonderful...I’m burning...feels so good...”

Aziraphale suddenly stopped. “Wait. Crowley...you...were hurt last night. I shouldn’t be...”

Crowley cupped his face in his hands. “Yes, Angel, you should. Because you’re healing me. Your touch, your kiss, it’s making me forget. Your love is burning it all away, don’t you see?”

“Crowley...my dearest love.” Aziraphale twined a strand of hair in between his fingers, then leaned in and sucked a kiss into his chest. Crowley whined. Aziraphale smirked to himself, then bucked up. Crowley yelped. “I want your mouth on me, Crowley.” Aziraphale growled into his ear.

Crowley blinked at him, then with a loud moan sank to his knees in front of the blond and undid his trousers. Aziraphale’s cock, already half hard, sprang loose, and Crowley moaned again. “Oh my god...” He took Aziraphale in hand, stroking him. “Angel, you’re...fucking magnificent.” He whispered before taking Aziraphale in to the hilt and sucking hard.

Aziraphale leaned back against the couch, eyes rolling in the back of his head as Crowley did incredible things with his mouth and tongue. He buried his hands in Crowley’s scalp, tugging on his hair. Crowley whined around his cock and sucked harder. His own cock was achingly hard, He palmed himself through his trousers, desperate for relief and release.

Aziraphale felt himself getting close. He grasped Crowley’s shoulders, pistoned his hips, and came down his throat with a cry of release. Crowley whined in joy and swallowed him down. Aziraphale’s body trembled from the shocks. He lifted Crowley into his lap and kissed him, tasting his own spend on the redhead’s tongue. Crowley whined.

“Aziraphale, please...”

Aziraphale pressed his palm to Crowley’s trousers, eliciting a howl of desire. He deftly undid him, pulling out his frankly mouthwatering cock(so long and thick) and gently stroking. “I’ve got you, my sweet serpent. Let go for me, my love...that’s it...”

Crowley came with a shriek, his head thrown back and his pupils blown wide. He collapsed against Aziraphale, panting. “Oh my god...”

Aziraphale kissed him. “Spend the day with me? We could go back outside, maybe...maybe build a snowman?”

Crowley had no choice but to say yes.


	6. Freeze and Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The snowman is built and a romance progresses.

Chapter Six: Freeze and Burn

Crowley picked up a bundle of snow, shaping it into a ball. “This big enough, Angel?” Aziraphale looked over from where he was stacking another, bit bigger ball on top of a large one.

“A bit more, darling, else this poor snowman will have a rather tiny head in comparison to his body.” Crowley laughed and packed on more snow, then held the result up to Aziraphale, who nodded in approval. Crowley carted the snowball over and plopped the head onto the body. Aziraphale centered it. “Too bad we don’t have anything to decorate it with.”

Crowley grinned, and with a flourish pulled a large carrot and a handful of coal from his coat. “I told Ana what we were doing and she gave me ‘supplies.’”

Aziraphale laughed and gave their snowman eyes and a smiling mouth. “You stick the carrot on.” Grinning, Crowley inserted the carrot. “Do you think he needs arms?”

“Yeah.” Crowley found some fallen branches and used them for arms. “Whaddaya think?”

Aziraphale beamed. “I think he’s perfect. I haven’t done that in ages. Thank you, Crowley.” Crowley blushed and pulled Aziraphale into a hug, which quickly turned into a long, heated kiss. When they finally, reluctantly broke apart, Crowley looked almost punch drunk.

“You’re welcome.” Aziraphale sighed dreamily and examined the snowman. “Hey Angel. Bet there’s something else you haven’t done since you were a kid.”

Aziraphale turned. “And what’s...” Crowley’s snowball hit him full in the face. “Why you demon!” Crowley cackled, and Aziraphale scooped up his own ball and launched it at him.

“I’m sorry, Angel, but...OI!” Crowley blinked away the snow. “Right. It is **on.** ” He scooped up more snow and threw it, hitting Aziraphale in the chest. 

With that, the snowball fight began. Laughing, ducking, dodging, and weaving, the two princes pelted each other. Aziraphale’s hair was plastered to his head. He had better aim than Crowley, but couldn’t dodge as quick. He decided to employ a new tactic. 

Crowley was kneeling down, preparing another ball when a very large handful of snow was suddenly dumped down the back of his neck. He yelped and went sprawling. Aziraphale pounced, turning him over. “Surrender!”

Crowley bit his lip to keep from laughing. He shook his head, speaking in mock defiance. “Never! An Infernian never surrenders!”

Aziraphale grinned, then dropped the snow on Crowley’s chest, rubbing it into his coat. “Will you surrender now?”

“Never! Do your worst, Caelumite!” He gulped at the wicked smile that surfaced on Aziraphale’s face. 

“My worst? Well, if you insist.” Aziraphale placed his hands on Crowley’s ribs. 

“Aziraphale, what are you...hahahaha stop stop that tickles hahahaha stop….” Crowley wiggled and squirmed, almost breathless with laughter. “I surrender!” 

Aziraphale stopped, a triumphant grin on his face. “Once again, good triumphs over wickedness!”

Crowley smirked up at him. “I’m wicked, am I?” 

Aziraphale looked down at him with such heat that Crowley was sure he had melted the snow. “The wickedest of all, my darling.” The blond leaned down so his mouth was near Crowley’s ear. “And oh how I love it.”

“Azira...” Crowley’s dark moan of desire sent shivers down the blond’s spine. “I want you...”

“Shall we go inside and get warmed up?” 

Crowley nodded. Aziraphale stood, then helped Crowley to his feet.  They went back inside and up to Aziraphale’s room. Once there, Aziraphale sent for a servant to light the fire. “Right. Out of these wet clothes.” They stripped off their coats, laying them on the grate in front of the fire to dry. Aziraphale arranged some cushions so they could sit on the floor, their legs stretched out towards the flames. “Lovely. Thank you for indulging me, Crowley.”

“S’ no problem. I had fun.” Crowley said, stretching his arms out to warm them. Aziraphale shifted so that he was behind the other man. Crowley sighed when Aziraphale pulled him to his chest, draping his arms over Crowley and pressing a soft kiss to his neck. “Aziraphale...”

“I love you so much.” Aziraphale whispered. “More than I could ever say in a million lifetimes.” He kissed Crowley’s ear, sucking on the lobe, and Crowley arched into his touch. Aziraphale’s hand slid into Crowley’s jumper, his fingers stroking his nipples, and Crowley whimpered. “You’re cold, my love.”

Crowley groaned. “Hot...you’re so hot...burning...set me ablaze...”

Aziraphale slid his hand further down. He palmed Crowley’s cock through the trousers, brushing his fingers across it, and Crowley groaned louder. Aziraphale pressed down with the heel of his hand, and Crowley howled. “What do you want, wicked thing? What do you want?”

“Wan...want you. Want you inside...want your mouth, want your lips and hands and cock, want you to break me and remake me, want you to burn me, scald me, want you to fuck me until I can’t remember where I end and you begin...”

“Yesss...” Aziraphale hissed. He sucked a bruising kiss into Crowley’s neck. “Come with me.” He stood, and Crowley scrambled to his feet and followed after. When they reached the bedroom, Aziraphale looked Crowley up and down. “Strip. Now.” 

Crowley whined at the command and shed his clothes until he was standing naked and erect. Aziraphale took his cock in hand, gently tugging it. Crowley whimpered and buried his face in Aziraphale’s neck. “Angel...”

Aziraphale continued to stroke, a deliciously wicked idea coming to his mind. “Crowley? You remember I told Father when we first met that I wanted you for a personal servant?”

Crowley looked at him and nodded. 

“Well...I think perhaps...” Aziraphale gave his cock a squeeze, “Perhaps you should...fill that duty. A good servant does **everything** their master asks.”

Crowley whined in desire at the meaning of Aziraphale’s words. “I’ll do anything you want...” 

Aziraphale smiled. “I know. On your knees, you wicked thing.” Crowley dropped to his knees.  The look of devotion and desire on his face sent a thrill through the blond. “Hands behind your back.” Crowley instantly obeyed. 

Aziraphale unbuttoned his trousers and pulled his cock out. “Worship me, Crowley.” He growled. “Worship me with your mouth.”

Crowley keened and surged forward, taking the blond’s thick cock into his mouth and sucking hard, hollowing his cheeks. Aziraphale swore loudly and buried his hands in Crowley’s hair. 

“Oh, yes, you beautiful, wicked thing, that mouth of yours was made to take my cock, oh such beautiful sounds you make, look at you, on your knees before me, my wicked prince, my serpent, my love, fuck fuck Crowley so good, so wanton, so debauched, your mouth is so hot, it’s burning me, feels so good...I’m so close...” Aziraphale came with Crowley’s name pouring from his mouth.

Crowley licked up the bits he missed, then looked up at Aziraphale in hopeless devotion. Aziraphale stroked his cheek. “On the bed, my darling.” Crowley leaped to his feet and climbed into bed, laying back on the soft pillows and spreading his legs wide. 

Aziraphale undressed and got into bed, settling himself on top of Crowley. He reached down and took both their cocks in his hand, stroking. Crowley hissed out his name. “Aziraphale...pleasssee...” 

“Hush, wicked thing. Patience is a virtue, after all.” Aziraphale said with a wicked smile. “Do you want me to kiss you?” Crowley nodded. Aziraphale kissed his forehead. “There?” 

“No.”

A kiss to each eyelid. “There?” Crowley whined and pressed his hand to his mouth. Aziraphale took it and sucked on each finger. “That?”

“Ngk….”

Aziraphale grinned and pressed his lips to Crowley’s. “Here?” 

“Yes...” 

Aziraphale kissed him hungrily, sucking hard on his bottom lip. He slid his tongue in between Crowley’s lips, and Crowley moaned. “You know, the lips aren’t the only places to kiss.” Aziraphale said. He sucked a kiss into Crowley’s neck. “There’s here. And...” A second kiss, this one just above Crowley’s right breast. “Here.” A third one, and Crowley yowled when Aziraphale’s teeth scraped his nipple. “Here. So many different places.” Aziraphale licked his nipple, and Crowley howled anew. 

“Aziraphale!” 

Aziraphale chuckled. “Patience, my wicked one. I’m just starting.” He moved to Crowley’s left breast, repeating the action. Crowley’s hips bucked, and he sobbed in want. “You are such a beautiful creature, my serpent.” 

Crowley clung to the sheets as Aziraphale kissed every inch of his bare skin. His lips burned, and Crowley chased the feeling. He was nearly drunk with lust and desire. He was vaguely aware that he was babbling nonsense, begging with all his might for Aziraphale to take him. He couldn’t breathe until Aziraphale took him, he was choking with the need to feel Aziraphale’s perfect cock buried inside him. His own cock was hard as iron and leaking, and Aziraphale, that bastard, was kissing him everywhere  except the one place he desperately wanted kissed. 

Aziraphale seemed to read his mind. He pressed a searing kiss to the base of Crowley’s cock, smirking to himself at the banshee shriek from the redhead. He gave the shaft a long, obscene lick, and Crowley nearly leaped off the bed. 

“Please please please please please...” Crowley’s voice was a long, steady sob. He was being tortured, he was in paradise, he wanted this to end, he never wanted it to stop. “Aziraphale, please...” 

Aziraphale slid his hands under Crowley’s ass, lifting it so his legs were bent at the knee. He traced Crowley’s hole with his fingers. “Please what, my wicked one?”

“Please fuck me, please I can’t breathe, I need you inside, please my angel please fuck me, use me, break me, burn me...”

Aziraphale sat up on his haunches. “Top drawer of that stand, there’s a jar of oil. Get it out.” Crowley retrieved it, pressing it eagerly into Aziraphale’s hand. Aziraphale opened it and anointed his cock, then slid two oil-slick fingers inside Crowley, bending them. Crowley shrieked his name. “So eager for me...” Aziraphale marveled. 

“Yes please please take me...”

Aziraphale couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He scooted forward, then lined himself up and slammed home with such force that Crowley choked on air. “YES!” The redhead shrieked, his fingers digging furrows into Aziraphale’s back. “OH MY FUCKING GOD, YES!”

Aziraphale kissed him so hard he tasted blood on his lips. Crowley kissed back just as hard, his legs locked around the blond’s waist. “ Aziraphale...I want us to break this fucking bed.”

Aziraphale lifted Crowley’s arms and pinned them to the headboard. “Do you? Well, we’d better get a wiggle on.”

Crowley was about to tease Aziraphale for the ‘wiggle on’ bit when the blond’s hips moved and all coherent thought fled.

Aziraphale set a relentless pace, fucking him as hard as he could. Crowley clung to him, sobbing in joy and begging for more. “Harder, please, fuck me harder, please I fucking love you so much, Aziraphale, fuck me hard...oh...oh...OH GOD YES, YES YES FUCK YES OH GOD ANGEL FUCK ME!”

Aziraphale could feel the bed moving, slamming against the wall with each thrust into Crowley’s perfect heat. “Fuck...so fucking tight, so hot, so perfect, my wicked thing, my serpent, my prince, my Crowley, mine...mine...m...MIIIINNEE!” Aziraphale screamed as he came hard and deep inside his lover. 

Crowley came seconds later, Aziraphale’s name a cry. 

Aziraphale was panting. He smiled down at Crowley, who looked equally as exhausted and sated. “You beautiful, wicked thing. I love you so.”

“My angel.” Crowley said in a soft tone. “Thank you for healing me.” Aziraphale lifted Crowley’s hand to his mouth and pressed a loving kiss to each finger. 

“Take a bath with me?” 

Crowley nodded. Aziraphale kissed his wrist, then  reached over and tugged on the bell pull. A few moments later, there was a knock on the door. Aziraphale turned towards it. “Come in.” 

Crowley blinked at him. Aziraphale merely smirked. A man with salt and pepper hair came into the room. If he was shocked by the sight of two men naked in bed together, he didn’t show it.

“You sent for me, Majesty?” 

“Yes, Roger. I would like for you to draw a bath for Crowley and myself.” Roger bowed and went into the bathroom. 

“Okay, what gives? The guy didn’t even blink.”

Aziraphale laughed. “Roger’s the head butler. Pretty sure they’re not allowed to.” 

Roger returned a few moments later. “The bath is ready, Your Majesty.” Aziraphale nodded his thanks. 

“Roger, keep this to yourself.”

Roger’s expression remained placid. “Keep what to myself, Majesty?” He bowed again and left the room. 

Aziraphale giggled and gently nudged Crowley. “Come on.” They slid out of bed and went to the obscenely large bathroom. Aziraphale climbed into the luxurious tub, and Crowley followed, settling himself against his lover. Aziraphale carded his fingers through Crowley’s hair. “Look out the window.” Crowley turned his head and looked. 

“It’s really coming down, isn’t it?” The snow was falling in great flurries, whirled about by the wind. “We went out right at the right time.” He laid his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Water feels nice. Warm. Like my angel.” 

Aziraphale kissed him. “My beautiful one.” He  scooped up a handful of water and poured it over Crowley’s head, wetting his hair. “Let me wash your hair?” Crowley nodded. Aziraphale took a cloth and wet it, then gently rubbed Crowley’s hair. Once the long locks were wet, Aziraphale reached behind him and took a bottle of shampoo off the ledge of the tub, squeezing a generous dollop into his hand. The smell of apples filled the bathroom. 

Crowley melted as Aziraphale’s strong hands massaged his scalp, then moved down to work the shampoo into his long tresses. “Zirphle...”

“Your hair is so wonderfully soft, my darling.” Aziraphale whispered in Crowley’s ear as he carded his fingers through the fiery locks. “I could spend hours with my fingers buried in it.”

Crowley purred, too drunk on bliss to form words. Aziraphale rinsed off his hands before wetting the cloth once more and rinsing Crowley’s hair, making sure that every drop of shampoo was gone. “There we go.”

“Mmmm...” Crowley pressed a soft kiss to Aziraphale’s neck. “L’veyou...”

“I love you.”

They stayed in the tub, exchanging soft kisses and touches, until the water began to get cold. 

Aziraphale led Crowley back to bed, pulling the blankets over both of them. “Do you like working in the kitchen?”

“It’s okay. Why?” 

Aziraphale stroked his cheek. “Because I find myself very reluctant to ever let you out of my sight...and my bed.  I want you like this all the time, naked and gorgeous. I want to own you.”

Crowley whimpered. “You already do. I’ll be anything, do anything you want, my prince.”

“You’re a prince as well, my wicked one.” Aziraphale said. Crowley shook his head.

“Your prince, my angel. I belong to you. I always will, no matter what.” Crowley said, gazing at him with utter devotion. “Make love to me?” 

Aziraphale kissed him. “My gorgeous one, how could I refuse? But I want you to do something.” Crowley nodded. Aziraphale rolled over onto his back. “Ride me, my wicked beauty.” Crowley made a strangled noise and grabbed the jar of oil. He poured some on his fingers, then slid them inside. 

Aziraphale watched as Crowley opened himself up, his golden eyes blown wide with desire. The blond’s own eyes were nearly black. “Crowley, you look so fucking gorgeous like that...open yourself up for me, there’s a good boy, yess...” 

Crowley whined and lined himself up, lowering down onto Aziraphale’s perfect cock with a loud cry of rapture. Aziraphale’s cock burned in the most beautiful of ways, and Crowley felt incredibly full. He looked down at his prince, and nearly sobbed at the love and protection he saw in the blue depths. He undulated his hips, crying out at the feeling. “Aziraphale...love you so much...”

Aziraphale grasped his hips and thrust up. Crowley cried anew and undulated again, sending shock waves of pleasure through the blond. “Crowley...my love, my perfect love...”

After a while, words became unnecessary. 

Crowley sighed in luxurious joy, tracing patterns on Aziraphale’s bare chest. “I love you so, my angel.”

Aziraphale hummed, halfway asleep. “I love you, my demon.” Crowley chuckled and kissed the spot he had been tracing with his fingers. 

“Sleepy.” 

Aziraphale nodded. “Yes. Get some sleep, my darling.” 

Crowley hummed, wrapped himself around his angel, and drifted off. Aziraphale snuggled down into the covers and followed, a smile on his face. 

Outside, the snowstorm grew, sending tree branches crashing to the ground. The wind howled like a lost soul. 

But inside a room in the palace, two men lay in each others’ arms, warm and at peace. 


	7. Moments of Happiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting heated in Infernia, but Crowley and Aziraphale are getting even more heated.

Chapter Seven: Moments of Happiness

**Infernia**

Beelzebub looked over the other members of the Royal Council. “As you know, King Lucifer’s health has gotten worse in these last few months. He is no longer a young man, and his obsession over finding where Prince Crowley has gone is consuming his every waking moment. I therefore submit before the Council that he is no longer fit to run this kingdom as it should be.”

Another member spoke. “Are you suggesting...deposing him?” Beelzebub shook their head. 

“I am suggesting...transference. I ask that I be given full power, as a Steward, until His Majesty’s mental and physical health improves, or, which is less likely, Prince Crowley returns.”

The doors to the Council Chambers flew open. The Council gasped as Lucifer staggered in. 

The king’s eyes were bloodshot, his hair a tangled, matted mess that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in weeks. His beard, normally perfectly trimmed, was as bushy and matted as his hair. “Conspiring against me! I knew it! You traitors!” 

Beelzebub held up a hand. “We are trying to do what is best for you and for Infernia, Majesty. You are not well.”

Lucifer growled. “I’m perfectly fine. Any news of my son?” 

Beelzebub sighed. “Majesty, you must stop this. Find a princess or a queen with red hair. Or if you must marry a man, find one you are not related to! The prince is not going to return to face a marriage that should never be!”

“HOW DARE YOU TELL ME WHAT TO DO! I AM THE BLOODY KING, NOT YOU, LORD BEELZEBUB! YOU TRAITOR! YOU CONSPIRATOR YOU...YOU...” Lucifer collapsed. Beelzebub rushed over to him. 

“Absolem, fetch the physician at once!” The council member addressed ran out of the room, returning moments later with the court physician. 

“Severe exhaustion, caused by emotional and mental strain,” was the diagnosis. “He needs to be put to bed this instant.” Beelzebub motioned to several members, and they carried the king upstairs to his rooms, setting him on the bed. 

Beelzebub pressed their head against the door. Something had to change, or Infernia would be in serious trouble. 

**Caelum**

“That tickles, you know.” Aziraphale said, looking over at the impishly grinning Crowley. He snuggled back down in the bed and relocated his place in the book he had been reading. “Though if you’re trying to distract me, it’s not going to work. I can read through anything. I once got so into a book that I didn’t even notice a cannon going off.” 

Crowley smirked. “So, nothing can distract you?” Aziraphale shook his head and turned the page. 

Crowley scooted forward so he was draped over his lover. He stroked Aziraphale’s chest, letting his fingers ghost over the muscles. Aziraphale didn’t so much as glance at him. Crowley pouted, then grinned. He pressed his lips to Aziraphale’s right nipple, sucking it gently in a way he knew drove the other prince wild. Aziraphale turned another page. Crowley huffed and repeated the action on his left nipple. This time Aziraphale patted him with his free hand. 

“Azziraphale….” Crowley whined. Aziraphale raised his eyebrows and turned another page. “Right. Time to fight dirty.” He slid down so he was between his lover’s gorgeous thighs. “Aziraphale, bet you’re going to be distracted now..” He sing songed, stroking the thick shaft. Aziraphale raised an eyebrow and, to Crowley’s frustration, turned yet another page. “Come onnn...” the redhead groaned. Aziraphale hid his smirk behind the book. 

“I told you, you’re not going to be able to distract me. Now hush, I’ve reached the good bit.” 

Crowley nearly growled with frustration. Time to pull out the big guns. He laid down so Aziraphale’s cock was level with his mouth. Crowley blew a gust of air across the tip. Aziraphale’s hips twitched, but that was all. The bastard didn’t even look up. Crowley huffed, then licked Aziraphale’s balls, taking his time to roll them around in his mouth. Nothing, not even a moan. The rat bastard was tormenting him and he bloody well knew it. 

Crowley had one more tactic left. Aziraphale would be distracted by this, he knew. Smirking, the disguised prince swallowed his blond lover down to the hilt, sucking as hard as he could. He worked Aziraphale with his mouth, teeth, and tongue, keeping up a relentless pace. Aziraphale’s hips bucked, pushing his cock deeper down Crowley’s throat, and Crowley clung to his thick, perfect thighs, moaning as he chased his lover’s taste. 

Aziraphale came down Crowley’s throat. Crowley swallowed and licked up the bits he had missed. “There. Bet that distracted...” He raised his head. “SON  OF A..” Aziraphale, that Bastard with a capital B, was still reading his bloody book! “Aziraphale!!!” Crowley whined, a petulant pout on his face.  The rat bastard turned another bloody page! Crowley threw himself dramatically on his back, whining. “Aziraphale!!!”

“Hush, Crowley. I’m reading.” Aziraphale said in a calm tone. “Find a way to entertain yourself.”

“Don’t wannnaaa….” Crowley whined, looking up with a hangdog expression at his lover. “Want you….”

“Honestly, you are the limit.” Aziraphale sighed and marked his place, setting the book on the nightstand. “Come here, you needy thing.” Crowley hooted in joy and clambered into Aziraphale’s lap. “Whatever am I to do with you, you wicked creature?” 

Crowley ground his hips against Aziraphale, eyes bright with devotion and desire. “Anything you want, my prince.” He sighed deeply when Aziraphale’s cock brushed against  his cleft. “Aziraphale...”

“Ride me, you beautiful creature.” Aziraphale demanded in a dark growl. Crowley whimpered and lowered himself onto the blond’s cock with a cry of ecstasy. “Oh, Crowley...my love...”

Crowley kept his eyes fixed on his lover as he rode him hard, his hips undulating like a serpent’s. He squeezed Aziraphale in between his thighs, pulling him in deeper, relishing the heat and thickness of him. Stars above, but he loved this man. 

Aziraphale sat up and pulled Crowley to him, kissing him with every ounce of love he had. He sucked a kiss in the hollow of Crowley’s throat, and Crowley cried out, back arched and head thrown back. Aziraphale pounded up into him, their moans and cries mingling. “I love you I love you I love you...” Aziraphale growled into Crowley’s ear. Crowley keened. 

“Aziraphale...love you so fucking much..” 

They climaxed within moments of each other. Crowley purred in happiness and snuggled against Aziraphale. “Knew I could distract you.”

“My dear, that was hardly a distraction. I just couldn’t stand to see a grown man pouting.” Aziraphale said primly before picking the book back up. “Now, I trust you’re satisfied?” Crowley huffed and nodded. “Good. Now be quiet and let me finish.”

Crowley flopped down onto the pillows, pouting. He brightened and snuggled up to his angel. “Read to me?” 

Aziraphale carded his free hand through Crowley’s hair. “If you like.” Crowley pressed up against him. “But I don’t want to go among mad people, Alice said...”

Aziraphale’s soothing voice washed over Crowley. It wasn’t long before the redhead was asleep and making soft snuffling sounds. Aziraphale set the book on the nightstand and wrapped his arms around Crowley, softly kissing the top of his head. “Sleep well, my darling.” He reached down and picked another book from the pile on the floor, opening it. Crowley whined in his sleep, and Aziraphale stroked his hair. Crowley sighed and settled back into his arms. 

When Crowley woke up, the first thing he registered was that the bed was cold. He sat up, heart pounding. “Aziraphale?!” No reply. Crowley hugged himself. Had he done something wrong? Was Aziraphale mad at him? He panted, close to tears, when he noticed a piece of paper on Aziraphale’s pillow with his name on it. He picked it up. 

‘Crowley: When you wake up, come to the atrium. I have a surprise for you. 

All my love, Aziraphale.’ 

Crowley sighed in relief and got out of bed. He dressed and made his way to the atrium, wondering what the surprise was. 

The atrium was warm, and Crowley breathed in the rich soil scent of the plants. Outside was white. “Aziraphale?” 

“Over here, darling.” 

Crowley followed the sound of his voice, stopping as he turned a corner. Aziraphale was sitting on a blanket, a large basket in front of him. “I thought we could have an indoor picnic.” 

Crowley came over and sat next to him, laying his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Sounds great. What are we having?” 

Aziraphale opened the basket. “We’ve got sandwiches, some tarts, and, courtesy of Ana, a large apple pie from the apples harvested just last week. I had to wake up frightfully early to get everything organized. We’ve also got wine.”

Crowley put his arms around Aziraphale. “I got scared a bit when I woke up and you weren’t there. Thought maybe you’d gotten tired of me.”

“Never. Would you like some wine?” Aziraphale pulled a bottle and two glasses out of the basket, along with a corkscrew. Crowley nodded. Aziraphale opened the wine and poured them each a glass. “A toast. To...ineffability.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Crowley said with a grin. They clinked their glasses together and drank. “S good wine.”

Aziraphale nodded. “The vineyard had an exceptional crop this year.  I was quite proud.” 

Crowley gaped at him. “You were quite proud?” 

“Well, yes. It is my vineyard, after all. I’m more than just a pretty face.”

Crowley grinned. “True. You’re also a right bastard.”

Aziraphale kissed his nose. “Your bastard, my darling.”

Crowley giggled for so long that Aziraphale was forced to stuff a tart in his mouth to make him stop. The look of shock on the redhead’s face sent Aziraphale into his own paroxysm of giggling. Crowley retaliated by picking up a piece of pie and stuffing it into Aziraphale’s mouth, which led to more giggles, which then led to a small food fight, which ended when Aziraphale pinned Crowley to the blanket and smeared apple pie filling on his face. They were both breathless with laughter. Aziraphale swiped up the filling and licked his fingers clean. “Mmm. Quite good.” 

“You missed some.” Crowley said. Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. Crowley pointed to his lips. “Got some here.”

Aziraphale smiled and kissed him. “Did I get it?” Crowley shook his head, eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“Nope. It’s really in there. Think you might need to kiss me again.”

Aziraphale chuckled and moved so he was lying on top of Crowley. He carded his fingers through his hair. “Dearest, if you want me to make love to you, you can just say.”

Crowley melted. “Aziraphale, my prince, my love, make love to me.” 

“See, was that so difficult?” Aziraphale asked before capturing Crowley’s lips in a hungry kiss. 

Clothes were discarded among loving kisses and caresses. Crowley wrapped his legs around Aziraphale, words of devotion pouring from him as his lover moved inside him. “My prince, my angel, my love, my only, I love you so much, Aziraphale, so much, I will do anything you want, be anything, I’m yours, body, heart, soul, blood, mind, all I am is you, you’ve remade me, my angel, my lord, my breath, my life, I love you more with every breath, every moment, I am yours, only yours, always yours, my lord, my angel...” Crowley chanted. 

Aziraphale moved inside his perfect lover, kissing him everywhere. “Anthony...I love you more than I could ever say. All the books in all the world could not hold my love for you. I am yours, as you are mine. I have been renewed by your love, been given new life, new hope. You are my prince, my wicked, beautiful creature, my demon, my serpent, my one and only. I will forever be yours...”

Crowley climaxed, shouting Aziraphale’s name to the ceiling. Aziraphale came moments later, Crowley’s name pouring from his mouth. “I love you!”

Aziraphale kissed the shell of Crowley’s ear. “I love you so much, my beautiful serpent.”

“My angel...” Crowley sighed. He cupped Aziraphale’s face in one hand. “How did I get so lucky?”

“I ask myself the same thing. You know, I am almost grateful to your father. If he hadn’t...you know, you would never have come here, and I would have gone my whole life not realizing that the prince of Infernia was the love of my life.”

Crowley sighed and sat up. “I still wish...things were different, that I could...court you, as you deserved. As is...befitting the prince you are.”

Aziraphale pulled him into his arms. “Darling, you are seeing the prince I am. The true me. The real me.  I don’t want fripperies, or chaperoned meetings, or any of that rot. I want this. I want picnics in the atrium. I want us snuggled in bed, watching the fire, and me reading to you. I want snowmen, and snowball fights, and us laughing until we can’t breathe because one of us is being silly. I want your devotion and your love. I want us sneaking down to the kitchens and running back to our room with apples.”

“That was fun, wasn’t it?” Crowley said, a grin on his face. 

“It was. I want posies in the morning, and that beautiful blush on your face when you give them to me. I want your smile whenever you look at me. I want the sun on your hair, turning it to fire. I want everything you’ve given me in these last six months. That is what I want.”

“Oh, Angel...I’ll give you all of that and more.” 


	8. Oaths and Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandalphon attacks Crowley once again, and Aziraphale keeps a bloody promise.

Chapter Eight: Oaths and Promises

The palace at Caelum was full of eyes. They watched the Prince Aziraphale and the Serpent Crowley, watched as they became close. They watched when Aziraphale dragged Crowley behind a tapestry in the Great Hall and kissed him until they were both breathless. They watched when they spent hours in the atrium, kissing and caressing, their names sounds of praise on each others’ mouths. They watched and whispered when Crowley left his tiny room for the prince’s large one.

They watched with differing emotions. Some with shock, some with wistfulness, others with jealousy that their lover was not one half as devoted as the prince and his servant seemed to be.

But one pair of eyes watched with a jealousy bordering on madness. Sandalphon couldn’t understand it. Ever since that night when he had...tasted Crowley, he had been obsessed. Crowley had been upset, sure, but he had to have understood that he was a servant, free for Sandalphon to do with as he pleased. After all, he had done it before. He was a prince, it was his right.

But rather than Crowley understanding and coming back, he had gone running to his stupid soft brother. Had gone to the most pathetic member of the family, rather than to the strongest. Aziraphale was a nothing, a nobody. Third in line. Sandalphon was due to inherit when the king and queen died(not that he was looking forward to it). Aziraphale would inherit nothing. So why was Crowley so enamored with him? Sandalphon couldn’t understand it.

So he watched. He bribed the other servants to tell him everything they saw, and with each report, his jealousy grew. Crowley should be his. He would make Crowley his.

Through his spies, he knew that while Crowley and Aziraphale spent nearly every waking moment together, there was one hour every day when they were apart, when Crowley helped Anathema in the kitchen. Sandalphon decided that tomorrow, Crowley would be shown who he should belong to.

Crowley moaned in happiness as Aziraphale kissed his thigh. They were in the atrium, the remains of their picnic spread out all around them. “Zira...love you...” Aziraphale nipped him, and Crowley moaned again. “Take me...” He was achingly hard, and he needed to feel his love. Aziraphale pressed a soft kiss to the tip of his cock.

“I was thinking, my love, that you could take me.” He said, smiling. Crowley’s entire body caught fire. He nodded frantically. Aziraphale smiled wickedly and slid to his haunches, positioning himself so his ass was level with Crowley’s leaking cock. The redhead watched in worshipful awe as his lover lowered himself down. “Oh fuck...Crowley...you feel...so blessedly wonderful...”

“Fuck...” If Crowley thought that Aziraphale being inside him was Heaven, it was nothing compared to the feeling of his cock inside Aziraphale. His prince was so tight, so hot that Crowley felt like he would burn up from the sensation. “Aziraphale...you...so...fucking….tight...” He grasped the perfect thighs and cried out in bliss when Aziraphale began to move, rocking his hips in a motion that made Crowley see stars. “Zirphale...” he slurred, eyes rolling in the back of his head. “L’ve you...so fuckin….m’ch...”

Aziraphale rode him expertly, his hips moving and his chest heaving. Crowley could do nothing but cling to him and thrust upward, his mind blank. When he came, it was with a cry that echoed through the atrium. Aziraphale came seconds later, painting Crowley’s chest and stomach. “Oh, my love...” Aziraphale whispered in awe. He kissed Crowley’s sweaty forehead, then much to the other man’s very vocal delight lapped up the come that coated his upper body. “I do love you so, my sweet serpent.”

“My prince...” Crowley whispered, pressing a kiss to Aziraphale’s neck. “May I take you again tonight?”

“Yes, my love.”

That night, Crowley laid Aziraphale on the bed and took him twice, much to their mutual delight.

The next day, after a very nice bath with his love, Crowley went down to the kitchen to help Ana with breakfast. They had struck a deal that he would spend at least an hour there. When he arrived, Ana was chopping apples. She grinned at him. “So, good night?”

Crowley snitched a piece of apple and bit into it, smirking. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” Ana giggled. “Is it possible to fall more in love with someone every day?”

“Yeah, course it is. I feel the same way about Newt.” Newt was Ana’s fiance, a young, somewhat twitchy man who worked for the grocer. “Every time I see him, it’s like I’m the only person around. He’s not as...affectionate as the prince is to you, but he’s so sweet and kind.”

Crowley grabbed an apple and commenced chopping. “It’s like...no one else exists when we’re together. Like the world’s gone away, and we’re the only two people left. He looks at me like...like I hung the stars. His touch burns me, makes me feel more alive than I’ve ever felt. But it’s not just physical, though gods knows he’s a terrific lover. It’s...everything. I can lie in his arms while he reads to me, and be just as happy as if we were making love. It’s the smile he has just for me, the way his eyes shine when I look at him, the way he pets my hair, the strength that’s hidden beneath the softness. I have never loved anyone as much as I love him.”

Ana smiled. “You’re both so lucky.” She sprinkled some cinnamon on the apples, then went over to a shelf and got down the oats. “Apple oatcakes sound good for our breakfast?”

Crowley nodded. “No doubt His Majesty the King will want something over the top and elaborate.” Anathema cackled.

“No doubt.” She got the rest of the ingredients. “But for us lowly servants, we have but the simple oatcake.” Crowley giggled.

“True, true. Want some help?”

“You can chop the rest of these blasted apples.” Ana pushed a large pile towards him. Crowley commenced chopping, a grin on his face. He really did like Ana. She was fun to tease, and she could give as good as she got.

“Miss Device?” Ana looked around at the man who had come into the kitchen. She vaguely recognized him.

“Eric, right?”

“Yes, Miss. Prince Aziraphale would like to see Master Crowley. He’s in the library, says it’s very important.”

Ana rolled her eyes. “Can it wait?”

“No Miss.”

Crowley gave her a nudge. “I’ll be back soon. An...the prince probably just wants to show me a book he found on the back shelves.” He washed his hands, then followed Eric out of the kitchen.

“So, are you new?”

Eric looked rather nervous. “I’ve been here a month.” Crowley nodded, realizing that this twitchy fellow wasn’t going to be much of a conversationalist.

They reached the library. Eric smiled. “Well, um...he’s in there.” Crowley raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, so you say.” Crowley pushed the doors open and stepped in. “Angel? Where are you?” No answer, and Crowley felt a shiver. Aziraphale always answered. “Aziraphale?”

A clicking sound made him turn. Dread pooled in his stomach, and he grasped the door handle. “OI! Unlock this door! Open up!” He pounded on the door, cursing the idiot that had decided to put the locks on the outside.

“It won’t do any good, you know.” Crowley’s heart turned to ice at the voice behind him. He didn’t want to turn, but his body wouldn’t listen.

“No...please...”

Sandalphon smirked and stepped forward. Crowley fell back against the door, panting in horror. “Please...let me go...”

“I don’t understand. You and my brother. I don’t understand that. I can give you power, Crowley. Real, true power. I’ll be a king someday. My brother won’t be anything. I could give you prestige, renown, real power.”

“D...don’t want that. I love him.”

Sandalphon scoffed. “Love is for children. I’m offering you something better. And all you have to do is let me take what I want. That’s all. It’s not much, really.” Crowley shut his eyes in revulsion as Sandalphon came forward, stroking his face with his grimy hand. “Just say the word, Crowley, and you’ll be given power beyond your wildest dreams.”

“ _ **Never.”**_

Sandalphon sighed in resignation. “That was the wrong answer, Crowley.” He grabbed Crowley’s shirt and yanked him into a bruising kiss. Crowley fought, his lips clamped shut and his stomach churning. Sandalphon pulled back, then shoved him to the floor. Crowley tried to scramble away, to hide in the cavernous shelves of the library, but before he could move Sandalphon was on top of him, pinning him down so he couldn’t move or breathe. “Last time, I had to rush because they would have missed me at the ball. But this time...this time I can...make it last.” He reached into his coat and pulled out a dagger, twirling it on his fingers. “And I have so many things planned for you. It’s going to be so much fun.”

“No...please..please don’t...please...” Crowley panted, eyes wide and petrified. “Please...”

“The time for begging is over, Crowley. You should have said yes.” Sandalphon sounded almost contrite. He pressed the dagger to the top of Crowley’s shirt. “Now...let’s get started, shall we?”

Crowley screamed.

Ana was beginning to get a bit annoyed. Crowley hadn’t come back from the library yet, and while she was all gung ho for him and Aziraphale, he still technically had a job to do. She was just about to go and fetch him when the last person she expected to see walked in. “Aziraphale!”

“Good morning to you too. Have you seen Crowley?”

Ana felt her stomach drop to her toes. “Wasn’t he with you in the library?”

Aziraphale blinked. “My dear, I haven’t seen him since this morning.”

“Oh god….the new servant, Eric, he came by about twenty minutes ago and said you were in the library, and you needed to see Crowley. Said it was urgent.” Aziraphale turned and ran out of the kitchen. When he reached the library, he found the doors locked.

“Crowley? Are you in there?” No answer. Aziraphale pounded harder. “Crowley?” Still nothing, and now Aziraphale was seriously worried. He grabbed a passing servant and had them open the doors. He stepped into the library and stopped dead at the horrific sight in front of him.

Crowley was on the floor, so covered in blood and cuts that Aziraphale couldn’t see one bit of flesh. He was staring up at the ceiling, his eyes blank. Sandalphon was...he was…

Aziraphale saw red, and with a roar of rage, he stepped forward and yanked Sandalphon off Crowley, sending him crashing into a nearby shelf. Crowley’s thighs were red with blood, and more blood seeped out from under him. Aziraphale wanted to vomit, but more prevalent was the white hot, all consuming rage. He turned and faced Sandalphon. “You. Hurt. Him.”

Sandalphon wiped his mouth. “Little bitch asked for it. He picked you. Stupid bitch. I showed him. I broke him nice and good, Aziraphale. He screamed for you, screamed for me to stop. Just got me more excited. He really screamed when I used my dagger.”

Aziraphale bent and picked up the bloody dagger. “This one?” Sandalphon nodded, grinning. “Sandalphon? Do you remember what I told you?”

Sandalphon rolled his eyes and got to his feet. “Yeah, something about ‘if you ever touch him again, I’ll kill you.’ Come on, Az, we both know that was a bluff.”

Aziraphale’s face was neutral. “Was it?”

“Well, yeah, I mean...” Sandalphon choked on blood, staring in shock at the dagger embedded in his heart. Aziraphale leaned in, speaking in a growl.

“Because I wasn’t bluffing.” He twisted the dagger. “You hurt the one I love.” He shoved Sandalphon to the floor, staring down at him in implacable fury.

A low moan made him spin around, and he ran over to Crowley. “Crowley? Darling, it’s me.” He reached for the other man, and Crowley screeched in horror and began clawing at him, eyes blank as he panted. “Crowley! Crowley, it’s me. It’s Aziraphale. It’s me. You’re safe, my love. It’s me.” No sign of recognition. “Anthony!”

The blank eyes cleared, and Crowley stared at him. “A...Angel?” Aziraphale nodded, and Crowley howled and threw himself into his arms, sobbing. “He hurt me...he hurt me so much...I begged for him to stop, and he...he cut me..and...he was...inside.. **why weren’t you here?** I called for you, but you weren’t here!!” 

Aziraphale clung to him, his own tears hot. “I’m so sorry, my love. If I had known, I would never have left you. I’ll never leave you. I am so sorry, please forgive me. I love you, and I am so, so sorry.”

Crowley shuddered. “I...hurt so much, Angel. So much. He...he’ll hurt me again.”

“No. He won’t.” Aziraphale said grimly. He kissed Crowley on the side of his head. “I made sure of that.” 

Crowley sobbed in relief. Aziraphale held him, heedless of the blood that still flowed from his wounds. “Let’s go get you cleaned up, my love.” He gently lifted Crowley in his arms. “Close your eyes, darling.” Crowley shut his eyes, and Aziraphale carefully stepped over Sandalphon’s body, a plan already forming in his head. 

He carried Crowley up to their room, glaring daggers at any servant who passed by. Once inside, he laid Crowley on the sofa and started to head to the bathroom. Crowley made a strangled noise and clung to him. “Don’t leave me don’t leave me don’t leave me...”

“Shh...I’m going to run a bath. I’ll be right back, I promise.” 

“N...no...don’t leave don’t leave...”

Aziraphale felt his heart crack. He picked Crowley up and carried him into the bathroom. Crowley  clung to him as he filled the tub with warm water, adding in some soothing oils. Aziraphale was about to place him in the tub, but Crowley refused to go in unless Aziraphale did as well. The prince stripped and got in, pulling Crowley in as well. “Oh, my sweet love. Let’s get you clean.” Aziraphale picked up a cloth and dipped it in the water, then began to gently wipe Crowley’s skin. “I told him if he ever touched you again, I would kill him. He touched you. Hurt you.”

Crowley shivered. “He...you killed him?” Aziraphale nodded. “He’s your...brother.”

“And he hurt the man I love. Violated him. Brutally. Brotherly bonds and oaths be damned. I made a promise.” 

“What..what will happen?” 

Aziraphale squeezed soap onto his hands and rubbed Crowley’s back. “To you? Nothing. I will go tell my parents that I found Sandalphon attacking you and pulled him off. Sadly, in the struggle, he was stabbed with his own dagger, and by his own hand. He was always playing with it, tossing it about, and it was only a matter of time before tragedy struck.”

“Will they believe you?”

Aziraphale smiled wickedly. “Of course. I’m the honest one, after all.” He kissed Crowley softly. “And even if they do not, I have not one ounce of regret for what I did.”

Crowley pulled him close. “Aziraphale? I don’t...I don’t know if...it may be a while before I’m ready to have sex again. Is that...”

“Of course, darling. I’ll wait for as long as you need. So long as I can hold you.”

“Yeah. Don’t want you to ever let go, in fact.”


	9. Causes and Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every cause has its consequence.

Chapter Nine: Causes and Consequences

“Mother, Father I have the most terrible news! No, that won’t work. Mother, Father, something horrible has happened! Damn it, that won’t work either. Dearest Mother and Father, tragic news! Yes, that’s good. Okay. I was making my way to the library when I heard screaming! I turned a corner and came across Sandalphon brutally attacking my servant, Crowley! I pulled him off, but, tragically, he twisted around and...(a very theatrical sob) his dagger embedded itself in his heart! I did all I could to revive him, but it was too late!” More dramatic, over the top sobbing. Aziraphale examined himself in the mirror. He had rehearsed this performance until he had it back to front. Now he just had to hope his father bought it.

He looked over his shoulder at the sleeping Crowley. His lover was curled up in a ball, whimpering. The whimpering got louder, and Crowley began shaking. Aziraphale came over and slid into bed. Crowley instantly pressed himself against Aziraphale, clinging to him. Aziraphale stroked his hair, humming softly. Crowley relaxed, settling back into true sleep. Aziraphale continued humming and stroking. “I’ve got you, my love, and no matter what, I will never leave you. Not ever again.”

Crowley sighed in his sleep and nuzzled Aziraphale’s neck.

The summons came sooner than either of them expected. Aziraphale answered the knock on their door, and when the servant gravely informed him that the king wanted to see him right away, he felt his heart lodge in his throat. Crowley, who was just waking up, pleaded with tear filled eyes for him not to go. “Just say you don’t feel well, Angel. Stall him.”

Aziraphale clasped Crowley’s hands in his. “I can’t, Crowley. I have to say what happened. I promise, no matter the consequence, that I will never leave you.”

Crowley squeezed their hands together and looked at his love with determination. “I’m coming with you.” His tone booked no argument. Aziraphale looked into the golden eyes and nodded assent. The servant led them to the king’s chambers. Aziraphale took a deep breath, looked over at Crowley, then turned the handle and stepped in.

He was less than surprised to see both his parents there, along with Uriel. A sheet lay over something on the floor, and Aziraphale had a pretty good idea of what it was. “You sent for me, Father?”

Gabriel stood from his chair and walked over, kneeling by the sheet. “Yes. Perhaps you can explain this.” He pulled the sheet away, revealing Sandalphon’s bloody corpse. “Explain to me how my best child ended up dead with his own dagger lodged in his heart!”

Aziraphale gulped. “Well, you see, what happened was...”

“Sandalphon raped me!” Crowley blurted out. Gabriel blinked and turned to him.

“I do not recall asking for your input, Serpent. In fact, I do not recall asking for you at all. Leave now.”

Crowley stood to his full height and shook his head. “Your son was a brute. A bully. A rapist. He violated me, not just once, but twice. He tore me up both inside and out. Aziraphale was protecting me, making sure Sandalphon never hurt me again.”

Gabriel turned to his son. “Is that true?” Aziraphale paused, then felt Crowley squeeze his hand. He straightened.

“Yes. I killed Sandalphon.”

Gabriel slapped him across the face. “WHY?! YOU KILLED YOUR OWN BROTHER FOR...THIS...SNAKE?! HOW COULD YOU?!”

“BECAUSE I LOVE HIM!” Aziraphale shouted. Gabriel’s face froze.

“You. What.” Gabriel’s voice was glacier cold. Aziraphale shivered, but stood his ground.

“I love him. And I ask...punish me if you must, but leave him alone. He’s innocent in all this.”

Gabriel slapped him again. “You...filth. You let this low snake corrupt you, turn you against your own flesh and blood. I should have known this would happen. There’s only one thing to do. Michael, bring me my sword. You, guards...hold that Serpent.”

Crowley was forced to the floor. “What are you doing?”

Gabriel punched him. “What I should have done the minute you arrived at my palace. Michael, my sword!”

“No.” Michael’s voice was calm. “I am not going to allow you to murder a man for the consequence of love. There is another option.”

Gabriel growled in anger and addressed one of the guards. “Give me your sword! NOW!” The guard balked, and Gabriel roared in rage and yanked it from him. “Hold the prince.”

Aziraphale struggled in the guard’s grasp. “No! Father, please, please don’t do this. Please!”

Gabriel pressed the sword to Crowley’s chest. “Any last words, Serpent?”

Crowley gulped. “Not to you. Let me speak to Aziraphale.” Gabriel shrugged and motioned for the guard to bring Aziraphale over. The prince crashed to the floor in front of Crowley. “I love you, Angel.” He grabbed Aziraphale and pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Gabriel said in a disgusted voice.

“No! No no no no!” Aziraphale cried as he was yanked away. “No, please!” He ran over to Michael, falling to his knees in front of her. “Mother, please, you have to stop this! I’ll die without him!”

Uriel spoke up. “That’s a bit maudlin, don’t you think?” She shrank back at the hellfire glare in Aziraphale’s eyes. “Then again, perhaps not.”

“Mother, please. I’m begging you. Don’t let Father do this. I was the one that killed Sandalphon.”

Michael stood. “Gabriel, **enough.** That boy does not deserve death because Aziraphale loves him!”

Gabriel shook his head, and Crowley could see the madness in his eyes. “You don’t understand. It is because of this...servant that my son is dead! If he had never come here, he would never have corrupted Aziraphale to the point of believing that his own brother was less worthy than a low life scum! I have to do this. It’s for the greater good.” He turned and smiled almost kindly at Aziraphale. “You’ll thank me, once he’s dead and you’re free of his influence. You’ll see that I was right.” 

Aziraphale knew that all avenues were lost. There was nothing he or anyone else could do to stop the king. He  buried his face in Michael’s lap and wept hot tears. 

Crowley could see his own death approaching. The funny thing was, he wasn’t scared for himself. Oh, the idea of dying wasn’t exactly a happy one, but he could face it. No, what scared him was what would Aziraphale do? Crowley fervently hoped that his love would remember him with affection in the years to come. 

Gabriel pressed the sword tip deeper. “Goodbye, Serpent.” He raised the sword in the air. Crowley closed his eyes, and Aziraphale screamed in anguish. 

Someone pounded on the door like judgment. Gabriel snarled at a guard. “Send whoever that is away!” The guard saluted and opened the door. 

“His Majesty is quite...” the guard was shoved to one side as a small army came pouring in. 

Crowley gasped at the leader. “Beelzebub!” 

Beelzebub looked at him, then at Gabriel. They placed their hand on the hilt of their sword. “You have five seconds to release him, or I tell my men to run you through.” 

Gabriel blinked. “I know you. Lord Beelzebub of Infernia, right?” A curt nod. “Well, I wasn’t expecting you. Might I ask why I should let this low life go?”

Beelzebub’s eyes flared in rage. “That low life, Your Highness, is the King of Infernia.” 

Crowley reeled. “I’m sorry, the what?” Beelzebub came over and knelt in front of him. 

“Majesty, your father is dead. Infernia needs a king.” 

“H..how?” 

“His...obsession with you consumed him. We tried our best, but he died a fortnight ago. Tracy told us where you were, and I set out with the best men to ask you to come back home. You no longer have to fear a tainted marriage.”

Crowley gulped, then stood. “Then...I will come home and do what I must. But Aziraphale’s coming with me.” Aziraphale gasped and ran into his arms. “I’m not leaving without him.”

Michael sighed. “I’m afraid you must. King or no, Aziraphale still committed fratricide. He must face the consequences. Even royalty is not above the law.”

“No. He can’t...you can’t. Please, just...send him into exile, make it so he has to go to my kingdom and...can’t return here. That’s a punishment, right? Right?” 

Gabriel snorted. “Hardly. The punishment must fit the crime. Now, since I have no wish to start an...incident, King Crowley-” he spat the words as though they were poison- “I suggest that you leave now.”

“No, please...”

Beelzebub gently grasped his arm. “There is nothing more you can do, Majesty. We must go. Come.” Blank faced, Crowley let them lead him out of the palace and into a waiting carriage. 

Aziraphale ran to the window and watched the carriage. Only when it was out of sight did he break down, sinking to the floor and sobbing so hard he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t even register when two of his father’s guards came and escorted him to the dungeon. He didn’t react when Gabriel pronounced sentence-that the next morning he be taken to the courtyard and executed for High Treason. Even Anathema coming to see him didn’t so much as cause him to blink. What did he care? He had lost everything. 

“Aziraphale.” Michael’s voice made him look up, his blue eyes dull and dead. “Come here.” He stood and plodded over, gazing at her with no expression. “You love him very much.” 

“He’s my life. Without him, I have nothing.”

Michael smiled. “Then I will help you go to him. But we must hurry.” She held up her hand, and Aziraphale saw the key. Michael unlocked his cell, motioning for him to follow. They left the dungeons, making sure they weren’t seen. Michael led him down to the kitchen, where Anathema was waiting with a bag. “Do you have everything?”

Ana nodded. “Yes, My Queen.” She handed Aziraphale the bag. “Food enough to last until you get over the mountains.”

“Sable is saddled and waiting for you in the stables, Aziraphale.” Michael said. “I know this is short notice, but...”

“Wait. There’s something in Crowley’s room I need to get.” He dashed out of the kitchen, returning moments later with the snakeskin cloak over his arm. He draped it over his shoulders, pulling up the hood. “It helped to disguise him, perhaps it will help me as well.” 

Michael smiled at him. “I will miss you.” She pulled him into a hug. “You were always my favorite.” 

“I love you, Mother.”

Ana came over and hugged the breath from him. “You’d better write me every day to brag about how wonderful life is with your fella.” Aziraphale laughed through his tears and promised. 

“And don’t worry about your father. I will be able to convince him quite easily that you being gone and never returning is for the best.” Michael said. Aziraphale gave her one final hug then went out to the stables, where Sable, his black stallion, was waiting, hoof stomping impatiently. 

Aziraphale stroked his muzzle and tied the bag to the saddle, then swung up and clicked the reins. “Ride like fury.” Sable whinnied in joy and set off at a gallop,  his horseshoes sending up sparks against the cobbles. 

Beelzebub looked over at Crowley. The king was still staring straight ahead, his eyes blank. They sighed and gently prodded him. “Majesty?” No response. “We should arrive in Infernia just in time for the Apple Blossom Festival. That would be a good time to hold your Coronation, don’t you think?” Nothing. “I am sorry about the Caelumite prince.”

Crowley made a strangled noise. 

Beelzebub sighed and stuck their head out the window, addressing one of the soldiers. “Let me know when you find a place to make camp. His Majesty could use a rest.” The soldier nodded. Beelzebub sat back, wondering how they were going to deal with the nearly catatonic king for the two weeks it would take to cross the mountains. 

A campsite was found three miles down the path. Beelzebub took charge, ordering tents to be pitched and fires to be lit. Crowley was led to the largest tent and given some food. He stared at it, but didn’t move. Beelzebub finally had to pick it up and hand feed him. 

Aziraphale slid off Sable and cautiously approached the light he had seen. He had the hood of Crowley’s cloak up, hiding his face. He crept closer, and now he recognized the Infernian carriage. Hope speared through him. He had found them! Now he just had to make himself known without getting a sword in his gullet. He looped Sable’s reins around a nearby tree and walked down the path. 

“Halt!” Aziraphale halted. The guard pointed his sword at him. “Who goes there?” 

Aziraphale had to think fast. “A messenger from Caelum. I must speak to the King.” 

Beelzebub came over. “The king is not in any condition to speak to anyone. I will deliver the message.”

“I am sorry, but my orders were to deliver the message to no one but Ant..King Crowley himself.” Aziraphale hoped he sounded officious enough. Beelzebub glared at him, and he glared right back. 

“Fine, come along.” They led him to the largest tent. “Messenger, Your Majesty. From Caelum.”

“Don’t want to hear it.” Crowley said in a flat voice. “Tell them to fuck off.”

“Well, that’s not very nice.” Aziraphale said in a mock hurt tone. Crowley’s spine stiffened and he turned, mouth open and eyes wide.

“A...Angel?” Aziraphale threw back the hood. Crowley’s hand flew to his mouth and he began sobbing. “Is...is that really you?” 

Aziraphale ran over and fell to his knees in front of the love of his life. “It’s me. It’s a long story, but I’m here.” Crowley fell forward, clinging to the prince as he sobbed out his relief. “I swore I would never leave you, my love.”

“My angel...”

Beelzebub smiled to themselves and left the tent. 

Crowley stroked Aziraphale’s face. “My angel, my prince, my love...” He pressed his lips to Aziraphale’s. “You um...you look pretty good in my cloak.” Aziraphale laughed through his tears. 

“My King.”

Crowley shook his head. “No. Your serpent, your wicked creature, your...marry me. Rule Infernia with me.” 

Aziraphale kissed the breath from him. “Yes, my sweet serpent. And I have the perfect outfit for you.” Grinning, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a golden walnut. “The suit as black as midnight. You haven’t worn it yet.”

Crowley laughed and kissed him. “You clever angel.” He stroked the walnut with one finger. “Tracy, when she gave these to me, told me to guard them well, for what’s inside could change my life. And you know what?” 

“What?” 

Crowley pulled his fiance into a loving embrace. “She was right.” 


	10. Crown and Coronation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tale is ended, and the King is crowned.

Chapter Ten: Crown and Coronation

“Look, Angel! You can see my palace.” Crowley pointed out the carriage window. Aziraphale, who was riding Sable, raised up a bit on the saddle. In the distance, he could see deep red spires. Crowley’s smile was both wistful and prideful. “I have so many things to show you when we arrive. The gardens, the conservatory...the library.”

Aziraphale beamed at his fiance(and even two weeks later that word sent flutters of joy through his whole body). “I cannot wait to see it, my love. From the way you describe Infernia, it is a truly beautiful kingdom.”

“It is. We’re coming up on the Apple Blossom Festival, and everyone participates. The Fest lasts a week, and there’s food, and dancing, and music, and it’s...magic. Then there’s the lakes, and the forest, and...I love my kingdom, and my people.”

“You regretted having to leave.”

Crowley shook his head. “No, because then I would never have met you, my angel. We’re nearly at the palace.”

The entourage had entered the city proper, and Aziraphale straightened a bit on his saddle. He could feel the eyes of the Infernians, watching in surprise as he rode next to the royal carriage, his cream and gold suit a stark contrast to the red and black uniforms of the Infernian soldiers. Aziraphale had of course come to know said soldiers over the course of the two week journey, and had discovered that while they were a bit rougher around the edges than Caelumite soldiers, they were fiercely loyal to Crowley and had rather wicked senses of humor. Aziraphale had earned their friendship by, of all things, being able to recite some truly bawdy poetry that made even Crowley gape.

Aziraphale observed the citizens as he rode, noting that they all seemed happy and well fed. The streets were clean, and there was an air of cheer and celebration. The men were waving their hats, the women their scarves, and the children were running after the carriage. Crowley reached up and tapped on the roof. “Whoa” The carriage driver brought the horses to a halt. Aziraphale stopped as well.

Crowley stuck his head out the window. “Oi! You, Adam!” One of the children came running up. He was a tall boy of about eleven, with tousled blond hair and a look of mischief. He grinned at the king.

“Hey, Your Majesty. Welcome home.”

Crowley grinned. “Glad to be home. How’s your father?”

“He’s good. So you’re the king now, right?”

“Yes, that’s how it works. Listen, mischief, you and your band of miscreants need to come to the palace. I need my garden helpers. I’ll even pay each of you four gold pieces. How’s that sound?”

Adam beamed. “Sounds great. Who’s this?” He pointed to Aziraphale.

“Oh, this is my fiance, Aziraphale Fell of Caelum.”

Adam and Aziraphale shook hands. “My Dad’s from Caelum.”

Aziraphale blinked. “Is he? What’s his name?”

“Arthur Young. Nice meeting ya!” Adam took off, and Aziraphale gaped at the grinning Crowley.

“He..that..what...”

Crowley smirked. “Why yes, Angel, I did recognize the name when you told me it all those months ago. I just didn’t say anything.”

“You devious serpent.” Aziraphale said with fondness. Crowley blushed.

“We’re almost there.”

Aziraphale had seen many beautiful places(mostly in books, but a few in real life). But none of them compared to the Infernian palace. It glistened in the sun, a gorgeous red and a deep black that rather than seem menacing, looked warm and inviting. The stones were somehow polished to a high sheen, and the tops of the turrets gleamed. The horses’ hooves clopped on the stones as they rode up to the front, where a fleet of servants stood, dressed in red and black livery.

The carriage came to a halt and Crowley stepped out to cheers and applause. He bowed his head in acknowledgment, then turned and helped Aziraphale down, kissing his knuckles. “Welcome home, my love.”

He turned and addressed the palace staff. “May I present my fiance, Prince Aziraphale of Caelum. I expect you all to treat him as you would me, and to obey any order he gives without hesitation. Am I understood?”

The head butler bowed so low his nose almost touched the ground. “Yes, Your Majesty. Now, as it has been a long journey, I have taken the liberty of having a bath drawn for you.”

Crowley nodded and led Aziraphale into the palace. The prince gasped. “Oh, Crowley, it’s beautiful.”

“Give you a proper tour soon, I pr...Tracy!” Crowley held his arms out to the woman that came around the corner. She ran over and embraced him. “I was told you were in the dungeon!”

Tracy held her little snake. “When your father died, Beelzebub came and released me. They asked where you had gone, and I was the only one who knew, because Anathema wrote to me. She also wrote about the deep love you had for the youngest Caelumite prince. I take it this is him?”

“Aziraphale, Madam.” The prince held out his hand for Tracy to shake. To his great surprise, she pulled him into her embrace.

“You are family, Aziraphale, if not for your love of my little snake, then for the loyalty and friendship you have shown my niece.” Aziraphale blushed and mumbled that it was nothing, really. Tracy laughed and kissed his cheek.

Crowley gave Tracy one final embrace before reluctantly pulling away. “Angel, what say we wash the dust of the road off in that bath?” Aziraphale nodded gratefully. “Come on then.”

Aziraphale let Crowley lead him down corridors, his eyes going everywhere. The art, the tapestries, the statues, all were even more beautiful than the ones at Caelum. Aziraphale wondered why that was, and then it hit him.

Color. It was everywhere. Red and gold and green and yellow and purple and blue and so on, a riot of colors that should have been chaotic and yet made perfect sense. In Caelum, the only colors seemed to be muted tones, white and cream and muted gold. Even the art on the walls, while it had color, were all muted and softened. Aziraphale looked down at his cream and gold ensemble. Maybe he should try adding more color.

“Here we are.” Crowley pushed open a pair of double doors and they stepped into the most elaborate bathroom Aziraphale had ever seen. The tub in the middle was large enough to qualify as a swimming pool. Crowley stripped off his dusty clothes and waded in. Aziraphale spent a few moments drooling over his perfect ass before stripping himself and joining his lover. The water was deliciously warm, and Aziraphale could smell apples. Crowley crooked a finger, and Aziraphale swam over. “Hello, my angel.”

Aziraphale kissed him deeply, his fingers tracing the scars that Sandalphon’s dagger had left. Even now, he felt white hot rage at what that monster had done to his love.

Crowley had spent an entire week in the grip of vivid, frequent nightmares, sometimes waking up the camp with his screams. The only thing that comforted him was Aziraphale, and so the prince spent every waking moment by his love’s side, holding him as he sobbed and thrashed. One night, Crowley had tried to initiate sex. Aziraphale had been hesitant, but Crowley begged him. The moment Aziraphale’s hand touched his inner thigh, Crowley had frozen, his breath coming out in panicked gasps. Aziraphale had stopped, holding him as he sobbed out apologies.

“Aziraphale? I...I want you to touch me.” Crowley’s small voice brought him back to the present.

Aziraphale stroked his cheek. “Are you sure?” Crowley sucked in a breath and nodded. “If I trigger anything, tell me and I will stop.” Crowley nodded again.

Aziraphale gently, oh so gently dipped his hand under the water and placed it on Crowley’s right thigh. “Are you still with me, my sweet?”

“Yeah.”

Aziraphale stroked the firm, wet flesh. Crowley shivered, but not from fear. Aziraphale gave his thigh a gentle squeeze, then very slowly moved his hand so it was on the inner part. “Still here?” Crowley sighed and nodded. Aziraphale kissed him. “Do you want me to touch your cock?” Crowley bit his lip and nodded. Aziraphale placed a gentle hand on the shaft. Crowley shivered. “Do you need me to stop?”

“N..no, keep going...tell me you love me.”

Aziraphale kissed him, while at the same time stroking him with a gentle, loving touch. “I love you. I love you as the moon loves the tides, as the flower loves the sun. You are my serpent, my wicked, beautiful one, and my king. You are life, and love, and all happiness. I am lost in your orbit, stuck in your plane, and have no wish to ever leave. You are the air I breathe, the beat of my heart, and the essence of my soul. I will never stop loving you.”

Crowley was sobbing in happiness. “Aziraphale, gods I love you so much, my love, my angel, my heart, all I am is you, my healer, my lover, my everything, my prince, my one, I love you more than any words could ever speak, more than actions could ever show. Your touch heals me, it makes me whole….I need you to make love to me.”

Aziraphale stopped and stared into the golden eyes. “Here? In the tub?” Crowley nodded. “Are you...” Crowley kissed him hard. “Okay then.” Aziraphale said, grinning. He slid closer, and Crowley spread his legs. Aziraphale placed his hand on the cleft of Crowley’s ass. “Look at me, my darling. I will be gentle. If you need me to stop, say so. I promise I won’t be mad.”

Crowley wrapped his arms around his love. “Please...” He cried out in joy when he felt Aziraphale’s blunt tip pressing into him. The blond entered him slowly, gently. Crowley shut his eyes, the sensation and pleasure almost too much to bear. Flashes of memory threatened to surface-

_Sandalphon holding him down, laughing cruelly as he slammed into Crowley, the smell of blood hot in the air, Crowley feeling his insides tear at the brutal intrusion-_

Crowley whimpered. Aziraphale stopped. “Are you alright, my love? Do you need me to stop?”

“N...no. Please, my angel, don’t stop...” Crowley begged. He needed Aziraphale’s touch, needed him to erase the memory of Sandalphon, needed to remember that this was meant as an act of love, not brutality. Aziraphale kissed his neck and began to thrust. Crowley gasped and wrapped his legs around his waist. “Aziraphale...don’t ever stop, heal me, make me remember how much I love this with you, how much I love you, how magical it is between us, how much we love each other, how good it feels when you’re inside me...”

“Yes, my perfect one, I will. We are magic, we’re eternity, we’re forever, always, ineffable. I love you, my king. My serpent. My Anthony...” Aziraphale’s body shuddered as he climaxed. Crowley cried out and climaxed moments later. Aziraphale cupped his face in his hands. “Hello, my darling.”

Crowley smiled back. “Hello.”

They held each other for a bit longer, then Crowley stood and stepped out of the tub. He grabbed a towel and handed another one to Aziraphale, who stepped out and wrapped it around his waist. “Come with me, Angel.” Crowley led him over to another pair of doors and pushed them open. “Our rooms.”

They were easily the most luxurious Aziraphale had ever seen. The wall hangings were a deep red, the furniture was new and shiny. But what got the Caelumite’s attention was the frankly obscenely large bed that dominated the middle of the room. “Oh, my...”

Crowley came up behind him, wrapping his arms around Aziraphale. He kissed his neck, swaying. “A room fit for a King and his Consort, don’t you agree?” Aziraphale leaned into his touch and nodded. “The bed’s never been slept in. Should we christen it?”

Aziraphale turned in his arms and let the towel drop. “I would love to, my king.” Crowley grinned and steered him to the bed.

“Well, that was quite tickety boo.” Aziraphale said, panting. Crowley lifted his head from his chest and giggled. Aziraphale bit his lip, then giggled himself. “So how is your Coronation going to work?”

Crowley sighed, snuggling up to him. “There’s going to be a lot of pomp and circumstance, and I’ll have to give some sort of speech, I’m sure, and then the crown will be placed on me, and everyone will cheer. I just wish...is it wrong of me to...not be upset over my father’s death? He...was a good father, up until...everything that happened. A part of me will miss him, but I cannot dismiss the insanity that gripped him.”

Aziraphale kissed him. “It is not wrong, my love. What he proposed was monstrous, but that does not make him a monster. He allowed his obsession to consume him, and that is no fault of yours. From what Lord Beelzebub relayed while we were on the way here, your father had become unstable. I think...even if he had still been alive, they would have come for you. A kingdom cannot be run by a madman.”

“Not sure I’ll do that great a job either, even if I was born to it.”

Aziraphale snorted. “Stuff and nonsense. You’ll do wonderfully. And you’ll have me to help you.”

“Well of course I will.” Crowley lifted his head and smiled at his love. “For the rest of eternity.”

The day of Crowley’s Coronation dawned bright and warm. Throngs gathered below the balcony, waving the Infernian flag, handkerchiefs, and anything else they could find.

In the palace, Crowley was fighting a case of serious nerves. He was wearing the midnight black suit, along with his snakeskin cloak, a combination that made Aziraphale’s eyes almost fall from their sockets. A page stood nearby holding a pillow with the crown on it, and another held the scepter. “I can’t do this!”

Aziraphale grasped his trembling hands. “Yes. You can.” He kissed Crowley’s fingers. “My King.”

Crowley felt himself relax. “My Angel.” He straightened and nodded to the pages, then walked out to the balcony, his head high. The cheers and applause trebled, and shouts of “Long live King Crowley!” reached his ears.

Beelzebub stepped forward. “Kneel, Crown Prince Crowley.” He knelt, and Beelzebub picked up the crown. “Do you promise to take this crown in good faith, to rule Infernia in mercy and kindness, to never abuse the power given to you, and to treat all as equals?”

“I promise.”

Beelzebub nodded and placed the crown on his head. “Arise, King Anthony Crowley of Infernia.” Crowley rose. Beelzebub turned to the crowds. “Long Live The King!”

The shout was echoed seven fold. Crowley bowed in thanks, then held up a hand. The crowd instantly quieted. “I know tradition is for me to give a long, painful speech, but we’ll skip that bit so we can get the Festival underway.” There was laughter and applause. “Instead, I want you all to meet someone.” Crowley turned. “Angel, come out here.” Aziraphale came out, and Crowley pulled him close. “This is Aziraphale of Caelum, also known as my Consort and the love of my life. Beelzebub, would you be so good as to perform the marriage ceremony?”

“It would be my honor, Majesty. Prince Aziraphale, will you take this man for your king and husband?”

Aziraphale nodded, blinking back happy tears. “I will.”

Beelzebub grinned at the moon eyed king. “Don’t suppose I need to ask you.”

“No, you don’t. The answer is definitely, unequivocally yes.” Crowley said before pulling Aziraphale into a kiss that made his toes curl. “I’ll get us proper rings, I promise.”

“Don’t need them, just need you...”

“You have me, my angel. Always.”

Later that night, as they lay in bed together, Aziraphale had a thought. “You know, our story is just like the fairy tales I love to read so much. A prince in disguise, a dastardly villain, and love triumphing over all.”

Crowley snuggled up to him. “True, and all fairy tales end the same way.”

“Oh?”

Crowley pulled his angel close. “And they all lived happily ever after.”

And so they did.


End file.
